


The Perfect Mistake

by Crescentmoonmadness



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Cheating, Drug Abuse, Drug Use, Eventual Smut, F/M, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, OOC Betty Cooper, OOC Jughead Jones, Pining, Slow Burn, Southside Serpent Jughead Jones, Underage Drinking, the slowest of slow burns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:34:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 47,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23765416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crescentmoonmadness/pseuds/Crescentmoonmadness
Summary: Betty Cooper has life figured out.But what happens when Riverdale’s Golden Girl starts falling apart? When partying, disloyalty, adultery, and a surprising new ally in the form of Jughead Jones overtake her life, what will Betty Cooper do to cope when her perfect world is falling apart?
Relationships: Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones
Comments: 253
Kudos: 268
Collections: 7th Bughead Fanfiction Awards - Nominees





	1. The Fix

**Author's Note:**

> Ohmygosh I cannot *tell* you how excited I am to start this fic. It has been bouncing around in my head for the longest time and I am so happy to finally have time to write it. I have to give credit to @secretsofthesky, who came up with the premise for this fic months ago (like...February of 2019...). She was gracious enough to give me the go-ahead and I am so grateful to her!  
> I hope you come to love this story as much as I do.  
> Happy Reading!

Betty Cooper was the perfect, All-American girl. 

She was co-captain of the River Vixens, yearbook editor, head of the Prom committee, head editor of the Blue & Gold, a straight-A student, and well on her way to earning valedictorian. In her limited spare time, she tutored kids from the Southside for free. Not to mention, she was dating the star quarterback. And to top it all off? She was kind, like, _genuinely._

She had life figured out. 

She knew that she was popular, but hardly recognized it as an achievement. In fact, if you asked her, she would deny that she was popular at all. She would simply state that she had lots of friends. There weren’t too many people that had something bad to say about Betty. Even the kids that didn’t hand around her usually admitted, although begrudgingly, that she was at least _alright._

~*~

**Friday**

It was a beautiful Friday morning, the sun shining in through her blinds, when her alarm turned on her radio, alerting her to begin her morning routine. Her eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the morning’s light. She stretched deeply, feeling her muscles pull and relax as she moved to get out of bed. An upbeat song came on the radio and she smiled. Nothing made her happier than starting the day with a good song.

She bounced over to her ensuite, turning the shower on. She looked in the mirror as she waited for the water to warm up. She knew she was attractive, but she always felt like there was something in her eyes that only she could see. Something that everyone around her, even those closest to her, missed. She brushed the thought aside, undressing. 

Betty hopped into the shower, washing her hair and body as she sang along with the radio. Her morning routine wasn’t too perilous. She put in enough effort to look put together, but she was never one to spend hours in front of the mirror. A touch of concealer, a swipe of mascara, and a dab of clear gloss was all the makeup that she applied. She blow-dried her hair and swept it up into her signature ponytail, pulling it taut. 

With her towel wrapped around her torso, she walked over to her closet, considering her options. She picked out a pair of dark wash skinny jeans and a fitted white t-shirt with blue anchors on it, pairing it with a blush pink cardigan. She grabbed her backpack, placing her homework from the night before into the pouch, along with her carefully folded Vixens uniform and her planner. 

She took a glance around her room, making sure she had everything that she would need for the day, before grabbing her phone and headphones from her nightstand, tucking them into her back pocket. She turned off her radio and left her room. 

She jogged downstairs, eager to get out of the house before her mother had too much to say to her. Her breakfast was already sitting out for her, along with her lunch. Her mother would never allow her to eat cafeteria food, or even pick up something at the coffee shop on her way to school, for fear that Betty might pick something that was unhealthy.

A hard-boiled egg and half a grapefruit sat upon the counter. There was a small white pill beside her plate, along with a glass of water. Betty sat up at the counter and popped the pill in her mouth, taking a drink of the water, then began eating quickly. It was quiet for now, but she knew the questions would start soon enough. 

She had barely swallowed her first bite when her mother spoke from her place at the sink. 

“How was your sleep?”

Betty finished chewing and swallowed quickly before answering, “Good.”

“Did you take your Adderall?”

“Yes, Mom.”

“Are you ready for your chemistry test today?”

“I think so, I took the teacher’s practice test last night and got all the answers right.”

Her mother tsked in the back of her throat, “I would hope you have more confidence in your studying skills than _I think so,_ Elizabeth. You and I both know that your acceptance to Yale is on a conditional basis. One B and all your dreams...poof.” 

Betty grit her teeth for a moment, but she took a small breath and let it out slowly, relaxing her shoulders and unclenching her jaw. 

“I know, Mom.” She finished her egg in another couple bites, eager to leave the kitchen before her mother could say anything else. She grabbed the spoon that her mother had set out for her, spooning bites of grapefruit into her mouth. The fruit was horribly bitter, and clearly not ripe at all. She choked down the bite and looked up at Alice, who had turned to face her. 

“This grapefruit isn’t quite ripe yet, could you pass me the sugar?” Betty regretted the words as soon as she said them. She could tell what was coming next from the look on Alice’s face. 

Her mother took her in, every inch of her, and arched one perfect brow. “I’m not sure you need the extra calories, Elizabeth.” Betty averted her gaze to look at the counter. She willed the tears that were threatening to well up in her eyes to stay put. She would not give her mother the satisfaction of knowing she had gotten to her. 

She stood up from her chair, abandoning the fruit, and grabbed her backpack and lunch kit. 

“Where are you going?” Alice demanded, her tone sharp as a knife, ready to cut down anything in her path. 

“I have a meeting with the yearbook committee before school. I don’t want to be late,” Betty explained, not making eye contact. She headed to the door, hoping that her mother would let the interaction die there. She should have known better. Alice always had to have the last word. 

“Here,” Alice walked over to her, her hands reaching out to grab Betty’s necklace, her fingers twisting it so that the clasp was hidden from sight, “There. Perfect.” 

Betty kept her face neutral, her insides knotting up at the word. She smiled weakly and headed to the door, all her optimism and energy that she had woken up with deflated. She walked out the door, making up her mind before she even hit the sidewalk. 

She pulled out her cell phone, tapping a quick message. 

**_Hey Arch, I forgot to tell you that I had an early meeting this morning. Don’t wait up for me!_ **

She made a quick left turn at the end of their walkway, in the opposite direction of the Andrews’ house. If she was quick, she would have time to get to the Southside and back before homeroom. 

Before Archie had a chance to answer back, she opened a new message, typing quickly. 

**_Meet me at Rutherford Street and Thorncliffe Ave?_ **

The response was instantaneous. 

**_Yup. The usual?_ ** _  
_She felt a thrill of excitement run up her spine.

**_Yes._ **

Betty looked up the street and saw the bus approaching its stop. She couldn’t afford to wait for the next one, so she ran to it. She boarded the bus and sat down in a seat, huffing quietly. It would only take five minutes to get to her stop, then another five-minute walk from there. Five minutes to meet up, and then back to school. With any luck, she would have time to stop by the Blue & Gold before class started. 

~*~

The bus let her out at her stop, and she shuddered at the state of the Southside. Most of the buildings around her were falling apart, or close to. She kept her head down and starting walking to Rutherford Street. It was a short walk, but she didn’t like to loiter for too long on the dirty streets. Betty was well acquainted with Southside High, she had done tutoring there last year, but the majority of the Southside was foreign to her. She checked her phone quickly, seeing a text from Archie. 

**_Sounds good, Betty. See you later._ **

She resisted rolling her eyes. She loved Archie. She really did. He was the perfect boyfriend, as her mother often told her. Athletic, handsome, loyal, and obedient. Betty always cringed at that last part. She wasn’t sure if she wanted a partner who could be described as _obedient_ , but she figured that was just her mother’s perspective. He made her laugh, he took her to Pop’s and the movies for dates. So what if he was a little predictable and inattentive? He was nice, and he treated her like she mattered. That was really all she wanted. For someone to pay attention to her. 

She turned the corner, the alley where she usually met Malachai coming into sight. Her feet sped up on their own account, she didn’t want to be in the Southside any longer than she had to be. Betty turned into the alley, stopping abruptly when she saw a man who was definitely not Malachai leaning against the concrete wall. She sputtered for a moment, before turning to walk away. She chastised herself for not packing her pepper spray, fists clenching as her nails bit into her palms. 

She was almost out of the alley when a husky voice drifted towards her. 

“Betty, right?” She slowed her steps, making a half-turn back towards the stranger. 

“Who are you?” she questioned, her words sounding a lot braver than she felt. The man pulled himself off the wall and began to walk toward her. 

“Jughead Jones,” she didn’t know why, but the name rung a bell, “Malachai sent me.” 

She looked at him, trying to decide if she could trust him, then scoffed under her breath. She trusted Malachai, and he was as sleazy as it got. She walked back to Jughead, studying him. 

“Where’s Malachai?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. The man in front of her was tall and lithe. He wore a leather jacket, worn, grey t-shirt, and black jeans with suspenders hanging at his sides. There was a ring on the middle finger of his left hand. It looked like a snake coiled around his finger. Everything about him screamed _run away._

“Busy,” Jughead answered shortly, “You’ll be dealing with me from now on.” 

He certainly didn’t seem like he liked talking much, which might be better for her, she considered. Malachai was chatty, and always hitting on her. She would definitely prefer someone who was efficient and not constantly making sexual advances on her. 

Betty nodded her understanding, then made to open the small pouch on the front of her backpack. She pulled out four twenty’s, making to hand them to Jughead, but he was just...standing there. 

“You’re Betty Cooper,” he stated. She looked at him in confusion. Did he not understand how this worked?

“Yeah,” she agreed, waiting for him to hurry up. She was going to miss the next bus. She waited for another moment before shaking the money slightly. “I’m kind of in a hurry,” she hinted, her eyes darting around the alley, making sure no one was around. 

Jughead chuckled darkly and reached into his jacket pocket, producing a small, yellow bottle. She outstretched her hand to take it, passing him the money with the other. 

“You go to Riverdale High, right?” She wasn’t really paying attention, tucking the bottle of small pills into the hidden pocket at the bottom of her backpack. 

“Um, yeah,” she answered absently, trying to figure out if she could make it to the bus if she ran. 

“Riverdale High’s golden girl,” he mused, “buying Ritalin in a dark alley.” 

She jerked her head up to glare at him, her jaw clenching. “Excuse me?”

“I just think it’s funny. Everyone seems to think you’re so perfect, and yet here you are, buying drugs in a dark alley from the Ghoulies.” 

She shook her head in disbelief, what was this guys _problem?_ She looked at him again, his features suddenly becoming familiar. She had seen him with one of her tutor students as she had been leaving Southside High. 

“I know who you are. You’re Jughead Jones. You’re friends with Sweet Pea. You’re in the Serpents,” she accused, taking pleasure in the fact that she had succeeded wiping the smirk off his face. His face was twisted into something akin to annoyance. She pulled her phone out of her jeans pocket to check the time. She needed to leave or she was going to be late for school. 

“Careful, Grace Kelly,” he mocked, rearranging his features back into something resembling nonchalance, “it would seem as though you need me more than I need you. I would try to stay on my good side.” 

_Grace Kelly?_ she thought to herself, animosity coursing through her. _What an arrogant asshole. Who does he think he is?_ She was about to bite back a response when he took a quick step towards her.

Betty tried to back up but he was fast, and she closed her eyes bracing herself for whatever was about to come. Her phone was gone from her hand suddenly, and she waited for one moment, then another, before opening her eyes. 

Jughead was standing so close she could smell the gasoline that obviously clung to his jacket. He had her phone in his hands, and he was typing something on it. 

“What are you doing?” she demanded, irrationally terrified that he was going to call her mother. She reached for the phone and he leaned back with his arm extended, letting her take it. She looked at the screen, expecting to see an outgoing call, but all that greeted her was a contact page. 

“What…” 

“For when you need your _fix_ ,” he drawled, a sly smirk resting on his lips. She shook her head in disbelief, scoffing harshly before turning on her heel and marching out of the alley. She needed to hurry or she was going to miss her bus, and she had no desire to spend one more moment in Jughead Jones’ company. 

~*~

The rest of Betty’s day passed in a blur of normalcy. She had texted Malachai on her way back to the school, emphatically telling the man that she did _not_ like who he had sent her. Typically, Malachai had responded by informing her that he wasn’t a delivery service and she would get what she got. She had thought that was rather hilarious, considering that he essentially was a delivery service, albeit an illegal one. She had pulled the bottle of pills out of their hiding place when she was almost back to the school, taking out one and placing it on her tongue, gulping down a big mouthful of water from her bottle. If she didn’t drink enough water she would feel nauseous all day.

She had her Chemistry test first period, and even though she knew that she had studied hard, the pit of dread that liked to inhabit her stomach reared its ugly head.

After her chem test, Betty had AP English. It would look nice on her college applications, but if she were being honest, the course didn’t really push her very hard. She was getting an A without even trying. 

Lunch was spent at the big table in the cafeteria, all the River Vixens and Bulldogs sitting together. It was the one time of the day where she got to see Archie, and she relished the time together, even if he did spend most of it trying to lodge bits of chicken fingers in Dilton Doiley’s hair. 

It was Friday, and her afternoon only got busier after lunch. She had AP World History and Calculus. World History wasn’t terrible, Betty was interested enough in history that she could get through the class easily, but she was sure that Calculus was going to be the death of her. Mathematics had never been her strongest subject, but Calc was a whole new world of struggles and confusion. 

Thankfully, she shared the class with her cousin, Cheryl Blossom, and as much as the two may not get along, the maple syrup heiress was astoundingly good at math and, coincidentally, struggling with her business course, something that Betty had passed with ease the year before, which meant that the two spent a lot of time out of class together, helping each other fill in the gaps of their knowledge. 

Betty didn’t mind spending time around Cheryl when it was just them. The redhead was actually a good listener, and more often than not, gave good advice. She often had less-than-nice words to say about Archie, but Betty knew that they were coming from a place of protection, as opposed to outright hostility. 

They were both on the River Vixens together. The school had implemented a rule saying that no one student could hold the title of captain over any sporting team for two years in a row, and since Cheryl had been captain last year, she had been forced to step down for Betty and Veronica at the beginning of their senior year. Cheryl was still an assistant captain like Betty and Veronica had been the year before, but the redhead struggled taking direction from anyone other than herself, which meant that outside of homework and class, Betty and Cheryl were often seen butting heads. 

Once classes were over, Betty ran to the Blue & Gold office. She had a handful of people working for her on any given day, on anything from proofreading to formatting, and most afternoons she would pop into the office to see if anyone needed her. They only had Blue & Gold meetings once a week, on Thursdays, but she found that the underclassmen she worked with needed her more than just once a week, which meant that several times throughout the week she could be seen sprinting to the office to help with anything she could. 

That Friday there were only a couple of students in the office, plunking away at edits to get ready to publish the newspaper for Monday morning. They asked her a few questions about comma placement, but other than that, everything seemed to be under control. She checked her list quickly, seeing that she was still missing articles from Ethel and Kevin. 

She also had to make sure that Chuck was in the stands before the game started. The boy had run into some trouble the year before, which had resulted in him being kicked off the football team, indefinitely. Betty had taken it as an opportunity to recruit another writer. Chuck was in AP English with Betty, so she knew that he could write something passable, and she had received one too many complaints about Kevin’s articles about the football games, which focused more on the eligibility of the opposing teams’ players than on the actual game. She had convinced Chuck to write the sports column of the Blue & Gold at the beginning of the year, and he did an amazing job, when he bothered to show up. 

She sent a quick text to Kevin and Ethel about their articles, and then one to Chuck to remind him of the game, checking it off her list. After making one last check that the wheels of production would keep turning without her, Betty headed to the gym. 

She walked into the change room, smiling at the girls as they got into their practice uniforms. They didn’t have a full-fledged practice on Fridays, those were on Mondays and Wednesdays, but the girls did like to stretch and do a run through the routines before they performed at the football games. 

She walked to her locker and grabbed her t-shirt and shorts, stripping out of her clothes quickly. She was the captain, she couldn’t be the last one in the gym. It set a poor example. Betty laced up her white sneakers and checked her ponytail in the mirror quickly before walking out of the change room, calling out a two-minute warning to the girls that were still changing. 

She stopped to talk to a few girls as she headed over to the front of the gym. Veronica was already standing there, a clipboard in her hands. They were co-captains and Betty was so grateful for it. She loved cheerleading. She loved dancing and being a positive role model, not to mention it looked good on her college applications, but a choreographer she was not. 

She and Veronica had fallen into the duel leadership role easily, with Betty handling the organizational side of things, as well as any interpersonal conflicts that should arise. Veronica handled the choreography and song choices, although she always ran things by Betty before she made decisions, something Betty was thankful for, as well as the fundraising that they needed to do to go to competitions. 

They ran a flawless system, which made Betty’s hectic life just the tiniest bit easier. The moments where Betty sat back and truly appreciated how amazing her best was were plentiful. 

“Hey, B,” Veronica beamed at her, her smile brilliant enough to light up the room. 

Betty sidled up close to her, bumping their hips gently, “Hey, V. So what’s up for tonight?” She waited patiently as Veronica consulted her clipboard, thinking for a moment before answering. 

“I think we’ll do the _Blow Your Mind_ number tonight. We haven’t performed it in a while, and I’d like to start working our way through the shortlist of options for Regionals.” 

Betty nodded, “Great choice. I’ll go get the girls rounded up.” 

~*~

Betty sat on the bench, her cheer uniform hugging every line of her body. She was holding up a small mirror, making adjustments to her makeup. A swipe of mascara here, a touch of lipstick there. She always got nervous before games. Something about performing in front of hundreds of people simultaneously excited and nauseated her. She heard Veronica rounding up the sophomores, telling them to line up to run onto the field. 

Betty took a deep breath and pushed it out between her teeth, flashing herself a big smile in her mirror. She stood up and walked to where the rest of the girls were standing. She spoke softly to some of the younger girls as she went, giving them encouraging words to help their nerves settle. She came to stand beside Veronica, giving her friend a reassuring nod. Cheryl came to stand beside them, looking like perfection, as always. 

Betty glanced at the clock on the wall. It was time. She smiled at the girls brightly, watching happily as they all smiled back. Cheryl took that as her cue and flicked her glistening red hair over her shoulder. 

“Alright, ladies. Time for some hell-raising.” 

The girls ran on the field with Betty, Veronica, and Cheryl leading them. They pumped up the crowd for a moment before splitting into two lines. They lined the entrance to the field, cheering loudly as the Bulldogs ran onto the field. She caught Archie’s eye as he was running past, blowing him a kiss. His wink that he tossed back at her made her flush red, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it. She would get to talk to him after the game. 

Betty stood with the girls, the cheering in the stands dying down as the music started. This was what she loved about cheerleading. It wasn’t necessarily the actual cheering that she found joy in. Dancing through, dancing was what made her feel free. She loved moving her body to the thump of the base, perfectly in sync with fifteen other girls. She felt a power surging through every fiber of her being, a power that she wished she could wield all the time. She moved through the movements of the routine, smiling brightly the entire time. 

The clock was counting down and the crowd was going wild. Betty would be the first person to say that football wasn’t her favorite sport. There was too much violence and she didn’t completely understand all the rules, but she was nothing if not a supportive girlfriend. 

So when her boyfriend stood on the field, waiting for the perfect opportunity to throw the football to Reggie, who was barreling down the field, she yelled with as much vigor as anyone. The Bulldogs were trailing by a few points, this was most likely going to be the last play of the game, and if Archie missed his pass they would lose. The entire stands watched as Archie made his throw, a hush falling over them as the football flew through the air. 

Betty’s heart clenched as she saw an opposing player start to gain on Reggie. The ball descended and Betty jumped up as Reggie caught it, turned, and ran the last few feet towards the end zone. The crowd erupted into cheers, with the Bulldogs flooding the field. The Vixens all ran onto the field too, a huge mass of students jumping and yelling. Betty tried her best to find Archie, wanting to congratulate him on his amazing throw. 

She finally found him, and her heart stuttered slightly as she saw him, laughing and hoisting Veronica into the air. Her footsteps falter for a second, but she pushed herself forward. She tried to shove down the vicious claws of jealousy that try to escape her. They are all friends, she reminded herself. And Archie wasn’t her property, he could hug whoever he wanted to. She just wished he didn’t have to look so… _blissfully happy_ when he did it. 

Almost as if he could hear her thoughts, he turned and saw her approaching. Betty watched as he put down Veronica quickly, rushing over to her to sweep her up in a crushing hug. Her anger immediately dissipated, relishing in the warmth of his arms. She smiled and looked up at him.

“You did amazing!” she shouted over the cacophony of the crowd. He beamed and answered by bringing his lips to hers in a crushing kiss. 

Betty sighed into his mouth, wrapping her arms tighter around his neck. She loves him like this, carefree, light, affectionate. It made everything worth it. She loved when she felt important to him, when he showed the whole world that she was his girl. 

He broke the kiss and set her down gently on the ground, beaming down at her. The crowd around them was starting to thin, with Bulldogs and Vixens forming smaller groups across the field. 

“I think that’s the best throw I’ve ever made, Betty,” Archie exclaimed. Betty smiled and grabbed his hand. 

“Definitely,” she agreed. She watched as Veronica started back walking toward them, a small piece of that jealous monster rearing its ugly head again. She shoved it down and smiled widely. 

“Amazing job, Archiekins,” Veronica complimented, her voice low. Betty recognized the sound, it was the voice she used when she was flirting, but Betty knew that Veronica meant nothing by it. Sometimes her best friend flirted without meaning to. 

“Thanks, Ronnie,” Archie answered, smiling. The two stared at each other for a moment too long and again Betty had to keep a handle on the swell of anger that tried to rise in her stomach. She shook her head and plastered a smile on her face. 

“So,” Veronica started, “some of the Vixens want to go out for shakes and fries at Pop’s. Are you two in?”

“Absolutely,” Archie said. Betty felt her stomach drop. She wanted to go, really she did, but she had so much editing to do for the Blue & Gold. She had tutoring all day Saturday, and she needed to spend most of Sunday getting ready to publish the paper for Monday morning, which meant that all the articles had to complete ready for print by then. She still had her own article to finish, as well as being the last set of eyes on the articles before they were ready to go to press. 

“I’m so sorry guys,” she apologized, “I have so much work to do tonight, I can’t go.” She looked up at Archie, who seemed genuinely disappointed. She knew that her boyfriend wished that she wasn’t so busy, that she didn’t have so many responsibilities that she needed to tend to. She tried her best to make it up to him, but so often she felt like she let him down. 

“But you should still go, Arch,” she offered, half hoping he would say no. Maybe he would come over and keep her company while she edited, she thought wistfully. 

“Really, Betty? Are you sure?” Betty tried to keep the small wave of disappointment off her face. She nodded. 

“Absolutely,” she smiled, “Go have fun.” He bent down to hug her again quickly and it made her feel a little better. He released her and stood up to his full height, flashing a smile to Veronica. 

“I have to take Betty home, but do you want to ride with us?” 

“Oh, Arch,” Betty stuttered, “you don’t have to drive me home. I can walk, or call my mom, or…” 

“Betty, I am not letting you walk home,” he stated firmly, his tone leaving no room for arguing, “Ronnie doesn’t mind, right?”

Veronica smiled brightly, “Not at all,” she gushed. 

Betty tried to calm herself, her nails biting into the soft flesh of her palm. It didn’t bother her than Veronica was going to ride with them. It didn’t. She forced a smile onto her face. 

“Sounds great, guys,” she declared, “I’m going to go grab my stuff. We’ll meet you in the parking lot, Arch.” She started walking before either of them could answer. She was fine, she reminded herself. Everything was fine. 

Even if it felt like her relationship with Archie was slipping through her fingers like sand at the beach. That was normal, wasn’t it? Couples went through rough patches. They were just going through a rough patch. 

Everything was fine. 

~*~

It was late, later than she usually let herself stay up on Fridays. She had tutoring the next morning, and she knew that she would regret working as late as she had. Betty closed her laptop and reached her arms above her head, stretching deeply. 

It had been a long evening of semicolons, misplaced commas, and run-on sentences, but she had finally finished editing the last article, and she had managed to finish writing her own as well. 

The entire evening her mind kept drifting back to her friends and what they were doing that evening. At some point, they had all been invited back to Reggie’s house to drink. Betty knew that she wouldn’t have been allowed to go, her mother had a strict ‘no underage drinking’ policy, but still couldn’t help but feel left out. What had started as milkshakes and greasy food had quickly devolved into a rager, if Archie and Veronica’s Clapchat stories were anything to go by. 

Betty grabbed her cellphone off her desk and opened the app, clicking through the stories that various Vixens and Bulldogs had posted. 

There were more than a few that featured Archie and Veronica laughing, looking a little too close for comfort. Betty tried to calm her breathing, which was now more ragged. She hated when her life felt out of control. When there were people who didn’t play their parts the way they should. 

Like Archie. He was supposed to be _her_ boyfriend. He should have been with her on Friday night, not out drinking and acting stupidly with every other jock in Riverdale. 

Like Veronica. Her best friend, who should know enough to keep a respectful distance for someone else’s boyfriend. 

Betty realized her jaw was aching from clenching it and she took a deep breath, trying to relax the muscle. It wouldn’t do her any good to sit at home and be angry about things. Maybe she could try talking to Veronica and Archie. Maybe if she told them they were making her uncomfortable, they would stop. She nodded her head resolutely. That was the best course of action. She needed to be straightforward with both of them. 

Betty saw a flicker of light from the corner of her eye and knew that Archie must have finally gotten home from his night out. A smile began to creep across her face. She stood quickly and walked to her closet. There, shoved deep in the back, was a set of lingerie, hidden carefully from her mother’s prying eyes. 

Betty held the garment in her hands, making up her mind. She was going to take back some control. Archie could go out with his friends, and there would always be girls who would hit on him, but he would always come back to her. The least she could do was give him something nice to come home to. 

She stripped out of her clothes quickly, pulling on the lacy, pink teddy. It was see-through across most of her middle, becoming opaque over her nipples. It was something that Veronica had helped her pick out months ago. Betty had wanted to spice up their sex life with something new, and her best friend had chosen the pink teddy that she was wearing now, saying that it was just perfect for the blonde. 

She took a deep breath and pulled her hair out of its ponytail, letting the curls fall loose around her shoulders. She felt a shiver of excitement travel down her spine. She didn’t do things like this, spontaneous things, certainly not _sexy_ spontaneous things. She could only imagine the look on Archie’s face when he saw her. 

She locked her door quickly, not wanting her mother to walk in uninvited. She took one last deep breath to calm her nerves. Hopefully, Archie would like her surprise, although, he had never turned her down before. 

Betty walked to the window and her heart stuttered in her chest. There, in the window opposite her, was her boyfriend. He was shirtless and clearly didn’t think she was still awake, if the half-naked girl in his arms was any indication. Betty couldn’t tear her eyes away as she watched the boy she loved kiss his way up another girl’s neck, his hands roaming up and down her sides. 

Betty watched in horror as the girl threw her head back and then her stomach twisted into a tight knot. It was Veronica. Archie was kissing Veronica. More than kissing. 

Betty felt her breath catch in her throat, and as if he could feel her eyes on them, Archie glanced up, making eye contact with Betty who still stood in her window in her lingerie. 

This is a joke, she thought to herself. They were playing a joke on her. That must be it. But then Archie pushed Veronica to the side gently, his eyes wide with surprise first, then guilt. It was the guilt that shook her the most. She had never seen Archie look like that before, like he knew he was doing something wrong and was sorry that he got caught. 

Betty watched as Veronica turned to look out the window, and it was only then that she remembered she was standing in her lingerie. She reached out quickly and flicked the drapes shut, blocking out the view of her boyfriend and best friend naked together. 

She had no clue what to do, or how to feel. Should she cry? Scream? Run over there and make a scene? She had no idea. All she knew was that she felt detached from her body, as if someone had applied numbing gel to her skin. 

Betty walked over to her garbage can, stripping off the lingerie and throwing it into the bin, being careful to hide it under some papers. She got dressed in a pair of sweats and a sweater, then starting walking to her bed. She was about to lay down when her stomach flipped harshly, and she dashed to her bathroom, emptying the sparse contents into the bowl. She wiped her face with a shaky hand and stood, swaying gently. 

Betty fell into her bed without ceremony, her gaze avoiding the window. She lay there, staring at the ceiling, thoughts racing in her mind. 

How long had it been happening?

Was it a one-time thing?

Was she not good enough for him?

Why _Veronica_? Why her best friend?

At some point, her nails must have clenched so hard into her palm that they broke the skin. She vaguely realized that she was bleeding, but couldn’t bring herself to get out of bed to clean her hands. Instead, she lay on her side, hugging her chest tightly, struggling to breathe as tears slipped rapidly down her cheeks. 

She fell asleep like that, covered in tears and thin trails of blood, asking herself why she was never good enough. 


	2. The Whyte Wyrm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohmygod, you guys! Al I can say is thank you so much for the overwhelming response of chapter one. You are all so amazing and really made me feel special! This would have been up yesterday, but I accidentally (it was an accident) drank a little too much wine... and was in no shape to edit. 
> 
> But here we are! Chapter two ready to go and I hope you all love it!

**Saturday Morning**

Betty woke up with a sunbeam laying across her vision, blinding her. Her bones were stiff, every part of her aching. Her face felt dry and cracked and when she brought her fingers up to feel her cheeks, she was met with crusted tear tracks. 

For one blissful moment, she was able to convince herself that it was a bad dream. Archie’s hands on _her,_ his lips trailing up her neck. It was just a nasty trick played on her by her own mind, her worst fears playing out in her dreams. She rubbed her face, her breathing hitching when her palms stung. She unfurled her fingers, looking at the deep cuts there. Betty sat up, taking in her room. 

A hint of pink lingerie peeked out of the trash can, the drapes of her window hastily closed, the picture of Archie that usually sat on her desk on the floor, the glass broken. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly as she realized that it hadn’t been a dream. Archie cheated on her. With her best friend. 

If she didn’t feel so hollow inside she might have laughed at the entire situation. Memories from the last month flashed before her eyes. All those times Veronica had flirted with Archie in front of her, when she helped Betty out lingerie, every time the heiress ran her hands down Archie’s arm and called him Archiekins. Had Veronica been mocking the whole time? 

Laughing at Betty’s expense, because she was too trusting to think that her boyfriend would ever do something so horrible? 

New tears stung her eyes, but she pushed them back, digging her nails into the crusted over cuts. It was a trick she had learned freshman year. It was actually why the habit had started. She had realized, after a particularly mean junior had teased her, that if she distracted herself by digging her nails into her palm, she could avoid crying when she wanted to. 

At the time, she had been so grateful to finally have a way to keep her emotions in check, to be able to pretend that she was untouchable, that their words couldn’t hurt her. Over the years, though, the habit had become a crutch, something that she did without thinking. It was something she was ashamed of, something that had never told anyone about. Not even Veronica. 

Every time she accidentally got carried away she would deal with it clinically, cleaning the cuts, and placing nude bandages over them. She would hide her palms as best as she could for a few days, and then she was in the clear. 

Of course, Archie had noticed them more than a few times, but she was always able to give him some excuse that was just convincing enough for him to not ask too many questions. 

Betty looked down at the freshly reopened cuts and scoffed in frustration. She rose from her bed and padded over to her bathroom, running cool water over her palms until it ran clear. She opened the cupboard door and grabbed her bottle of peroxide that she kept hidden in the back, pouring the liquid over her hands before placing two small bandaids on her palms. 

She walked back into her bedroom and picked up her phone. She didn’t want to look at it, terrified of what she might see. 

There might be an overabundance of messages from Archie and Veronica. There might be nothing. She couldn’t decide which would be worse. Betty took a deep breath and steeled herself, turning it over in her hand. 

There were no messages from Veronica and five missed calls from Archie, three from the night before and two from that morning. A wave of anger crashed over her. Five phone calls. Apparently, that was what their relationship of three years was worth. 

She looked at the time, seeing that the morning was half gone, and threw her phone down on the bed. She didn’t have time to sit around and mope. She had tutoring in a half hour and she was honestly grateful for the distraction. The last thing she wanted to do was stay at home all day and think about how her lying, cheating boyfriend was sitting in his house not even thirty feet away from her. 

She walked to her closet and got dressed quickly in a pair of comfortable jeans and a crewneck sweater. She didn’t usually get dressed up for tutoring anyways, opting for clothes that would fit in a little better on the Southside. The first few times she had tutored, she had dressed in clothes that she would wear to Riverdale High, but quickly realized that among the leather jackets and ripped jeans, she stuck out like a sore thumb. 

Betty tried to make a list of everything she would need to take with her, but her mind was fuzzy. She heaved a sigh and marched over to her backpack, pulling out the yellow bottle from the bottom. She popped open the top and grabbed a pill, putting it on her tongue. She hid the bottle again and got a glass of water from the tap in her bathroom, swallowing the Ritalin. 

She didn’t want to be unfocused. Being unfocused meant that her mind could wander to things like hands roaming over naked skin. She knew that if she kept herself distracted with tutoring she would be able to get through the day without falling apart. 

Before leaving her room Betty walked to the garbage can, pulling the pink lingerie out. She wanted to burn it, because it represented everything in her life that had fallen apart last night, Her relationship with Archie, her friendship with Veronica, her trust for both of them. She knew it was dramatic to want to table the offensive pink teddy into their backyard and set it ablaze, but it was all she wanted to do. She stared at it for a moment longer before throwing it back into the depths of her closet. She would deal with it later. 

Betty walked downstairs, thankful that her mother worked at the Register’s office on Saturdays. She wouldn’t have to see the Cooper matriarch until that evening, wouldn’t have to explain what had happened with Archie. She opened the cupboard that housed their medicine and took down the bottle of Adderall. Her mother counted the pills every night, to make sure that Betty was taking them. That had started sometime during Betty’s sophomore year. Betty had decided that she simply wouldn’t take the Adderall that her mother kept trying to force her to take. When Alice had noticed that Betty wasn’t taking it, well, it had been quite the disruptance. Hence the pill counting. 

Usually, Betty would just throw the pill down the drain on days when she didn’t want to take it, but today she paused her hand over the sink. She still felt fuzzy, like a raw nerve that was exposed to air. She slowly brought her hand to her mouth and swallowed the pill. She drank some water and took a deep breath. Maybe that would help settle her down. 

She was about to open the fridge to take out the hard-boiled eggs when there was a knock at the door. Betty’s heart dropped into her stomach. She had a good idea of who was at the door and she didn’t want to talk. Maybe if she pretended like she wasn’t home then he would go away. 

There was another knock and then his voice on the other side of the oak. “Come on, Betty. I know you’re home. I’ve been waiting for you to leave for tutoring all morning.” 

She silently cursed. Of course, he knew her schedule. She had to give him credit, she hadn’t thought that he would be waiting for her to leave her house. She had hoped that she would be able to sneak off to the Southside and avoid talking to him. 

There was another knock, a little louder this time. She clenched her jaw. There was no avoiding him, it would seem. She walked to the door and opened it quickly. 

“What do you want, Archie?” she bit out, the words flying out venomously. He looked wounded at her tone and she almost laughed at him. What had he expected? For her to welcome him in with open arms? 

“I just want to talk, Betts,” he said quietly, flashing her his patent puppy dog eyes, “Can I come in?” 

She gripped the door tightly. She wanted to tell him no. To leave her alone. She wanted to slam the door in his face. Instead, she stood back, allowing him to walk into the living room. She hoped that if she got this out of the way now, she could avoid embarrassment later on. 

He stopped in the middle of the room, looking uncomfortable. She walked into the room and stopped five feet away from him, wanting to keep her distance. Betty crossed her arms over chest, waiting for him to start. 

Archie heaved a sigh, “It’s not what it looked like, I-”

“Really, Archie? Because it looked like you were about to fuck my best friend,” she said, her voice rising. She tried to tell herself to calm down. It wouldn’t serve her to lose control. To her delight, he looked taken aback by her cursing. His Betty didn’t swear, but she wasn’t his anymore, was she?

“Baby, it didn’t mean anything. We were drunk, and I missed you and -”

“Are you serious right now?” Betty shouted, all intentions of keeping herself calm thrown out the window. Was he really going to try to blame this on alcohol and the fact that she didn’t go to Pop’s? “God, you are so unbelievable, Archie Andrews. It’s not my fault that I have responsibilities, and even if I _had_ come with you guys, I wouldn’t have been allowed to go to Reggie’s. You know that. Don’t give me that _fucking bullshit_!”

To his credit, he did look honestly wounded as she hurled the words at him. She almost felt bad, and then the image of him naked with Veronica flashed before her eyes and all sympathy died in its tracks. 

“Betty, this isn’t you. You aren’t… mean. You’re kind and forgiving. I think I at least deserve to explain myself.” 

That was it, she thought. He thought he knew her? He thought that because she was a kind person that he could talk down to her, that he could explain his actions away, and then he would get the forgiveness he so desperately wanted. 

“Get out,” she growled, her voice low. 

“What? Betty, come on, just let me -”

“Get out!” she screamed, her throat aching as the words tore their way out of her. “Get out and don’t come back. I don’t want to hear your justifications or your apologies. Just how long has this been going on for? How long have you two been making a fool out of me? I never want to speak to you again. Or Veronica. You know what, you can tell her that the next time you see her. I am done with both of you.” 

She was shaking with rage, and it felt good. She felt in control for once. She watched as Archie’s face transformed from bewilderment to anger. It was a look she had never seen on his face before, and for a moment, she was terrified. 

“Fine,” he spat out, “you can throw away everything we have, but remember that it was you who ended this.” He made to walk past her, and something about his words spurred her on. 

“Me?” she was hysterical, she could tell by the shrieking of her voice, “I didn’t do _anything_ except love you! You’re the one who ruined this. This is on you.” 

Archie stopped in his tracks, wheeling back around to face her. She shrunk back as he took two lurching steps towards her. He was impossibly close to her, his face only inches away from hers. His voice was quiet and low when he spoke. 

“You’re right about that. You don’t do _anything._ You don’t pay attention to me, you don’t come to parties with me, we _barely_ have sex. So don’t blame me for finding someone who actually cares about me and is willing to put out. Someone who likes to have _fun_ for a change, someone who -” 

She didn’t know what came over her. Maybe it was listening to him complain about her failings, maybe it was the realization that he thought he was justified in his actions, maybe it was simply because she wanted to show him that she wasn’t weak. Her fist clenched tightly and she swung as hard as she could, connecting with his cheekbone. 

The white-hot flash of pain was instant, scorching through her hand and up her arm, but she hardly cared. 

He stumbled back, his hand coming to cover his face. She could already see red droplets of blood dripping from his nose, but she couldn’t bring herself to feel guilty. She wasn’t sure if it was a good thing that she felt satisfied, as if his physical pain could atone for her emotional pain. She tried to keep the smirk that ached to come out off her face, but she knew she was probably failing miserably. 

Her smile faded quickly, however, when Archie lowered his hand, his face twisted in rage. She took a large step towards her and it was the first time she truly felt scared of him. He wouldn’t hit her back, would he? Archie was a lot of things, but abusive wasn’t one of them. 

Her eyes closed on their own volition and she shrank into herself. She didn’t know what she was waiting for, but it never came. There was a commotion in front of her and then a deep, booming voice. 

“What the fuck is going on here?” Her eyes flew open to see the tall, dark-haired man that was now standing in between her and Archie. 

“Sweet Pea?” she questioned, “What are you doing here?” 

He ignored her question, keeping her behind him. She peeked around his body to see that Archie was now standing in the foyer, his eyes black with hatred. 

“Walk away, Andrews.” Sweet Pea left no room for arguing. Archie scoffed and shook his head. 

“You know what? You can have her.” Betty watched as Archie walked out her front door, slamming it behind him. She was frozen, trying desperately to understand what had happened. 

“Are you okay?” She looked up into Sweet Pea’s face, his eyes full of concern, all the hostility from a moment ago forgotten. 

“Y-yeah,” she stuttered, “what are you…”

“It’s our one-year anniversary of when you started tutoring me,” he explained, his eyes soft, “I thought I’d get you a latte and come pick you up so you didn’t have to take the bus. But then when I got here I heard shouting. I thought it was your mom at first, but then I heard Andrews’ voice. When I opened the door he was coming at you and I just… I don’t know. I was worried that he was going to hurt you, so I threw him back. Although, now that I look, I can see that he was not the one throwing punches.” He pointedly looked down at her hand that she was still clutching. Her knuckles were bright red. 

“Oh,” she softly exclaimed, suddenly feeling embarrassed, “I… I kind of punched him in the face.” 

Sweet Pea chuckled, “Yeah, I can see that, Cooper.” Sweet Pea stood to his full height, towering over her as he surveyed the room. “Well, let’s get out of here.”

“Ah,” she breathed, the thought of tutoring suddenly seeming so exhausting to her, “Sweet Pea, do you think we can reschedule? I don’t think -”

“Are you kidding me, Cooper? We aren’t studying today. Come on, I think you need to get out of here.” 

Betty smiled, despite the turmoil rolling in her stomach. When she had started tutoring Sweet Pea last year, she hadn’t thought much of it. He was kind and respectful and a good student. What she hadn’t been expecting was to get as close to him as she had. He was a good friend, and it was times like this that reminded her of that. He walked to the kitchen and grabbed her backpack off the counter, then turned to leave. Betty snagged her cell phone and keys, tucking them into the pockets of her jeans, and followed him. She locked the door and then turned, looking for Archie, but he had disappeared. 

The two walked down her sideway in silence for a moment before Sweet Pea spoke up. 

“So what did Carrottop do to deserve a punch in the mouth?” he asked. 

Betty scoffed and spoke quietly. “He cheated on me.” 

Sweet Pea glared in the direction of Archie’s house, “Fucking idiot.” Betty couldn’t help but smile at his words.

They walked up to a bike parked on the street and Betty hesitated. Sweet Pea handed her his helmet, silencing her oppositions about safety, that he must have known were coming, with a swift glare. She sighed mostly to herself, took out her ponytail, and pulled the helmet onto her head, buckling the strap. She glanced back at the Andrews home one last time. 

“Fucking idiot,” she agreed softly. 

She waited as Sweet Pea mounted the bike, then swung her leg over, pulling herself to sit behind him. Her mother would kill her if she ever found out she had ridden a motorcycle, with a Serpent, no less. She couldn’t help the large grin that took over her face. If she was going to get in trouble, she might as well do it right. 

**~*~**

Betty watched as the Southside flowed past them, taking in everything that she had never seen before. She was surprised to see that it wasn’t as run down as she had once thought it would be. The houses weren’t as new as most of the ones on Elm Street, but they weren’t shanties either. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. Betty wasn’t one to blindly follow, preferring to make her own conclusions, and she was disappointed in herself for making general assumptions about the Southside. 

She was pulled from her thoughts when Sweet Pea downshifted, the action causing Betty to jerk forward and fall into him slightly. She readjusted her position carefully, looking around him to see what they were slowing down for. Sweet Pea was signaling to enter a small parking lot, an old log bar sitting before them. There was an unlit neon sign over the door, the letters spelling _The Whyte Wyrm_ in cursive. 

Sweet Pea had told Betty about the bar from time to time, enough for her to know that it was the Serpents’ home base. She lowered herself off the bike when Sweet Pea came to a stop, pulling off the helmet and throwing her hair into a messy bun in a desperate attempt to hide her helmet hair. 

“Nice hair, Cooper,” he chuckled. 

She handed him the helmet back, tossing an elbow lightly into his stomach. He feigned injury, to which she rolled her eyes. He was ridiculous, but she was incredibly grateful for his presence. She followed Sweet Pea up the stairs into the Wyrm, her stomach somersaulting the entire time. Riding a bike was one thing. If her mother found out that she had been hanging out with Serpents all afternoon, she would lock her up until she turned eighteen. 

Sweet Pea pushed open a large oak door and plunged into the darkened bar, holding the door for Betty. She walked in and slammed her eyes shut for a moment, willing them to adjust to the low light of the room. She opened her eyes again, taking a few hurried steps to catch up with Sweet Pea. She was looking around when Sweet Pea’s voice rang out. 

“Hey, Jones,” Sweet Pea called, raising a hand in greeting. Betty’s heart stilled at the name, panic rising in her veins. Surely, her luck couldn’t be _that_ bad. 

Betty looked around him, seeing the man in question sitting alone in a booth. She hoped that Sweet Pea would find them somewhere else to sit, but it seemed as though he was heading right for Jughead. 

“Hey, Sweets,” his gravelly voice rang out in the din of the bar, “Who do we have -”

She thrust out her hand, thinking quickly, “Hi, I’m Betty Cooper.” She clenched her jaw tightly, the panic that sat in her bones now wriggling uncomfortably under her skin. 

He eyed her for a moment, and she prayed that he would play along, then he spoke slowly, “Jughead Jones.” She took his extended hand, letting out a soft sigh of relief. She jerked unwillingly at his touch, pulling her hand away quickly. His touch felt electric, his fingers rough and calloused against hers. She realized Sweet Pea was talking and she struggling to listen to what he was saying. 

“... and Jughead is the man in charge around here. He’s been running the bar for, what? Almost six months now?” 

Betty regarded him coolly, trying to keep her face neutral. “You seem pretty young to be a business owner,” she said inquisitively. 

“It’s a family business,” he said answered with a grin, though Betty could tell his face was guarded. 

“Right,” she raised an eyebrow at him, knowing that there was obviously more to the story than that. She found herself wanting to know more, but decided to drop it as Sweet Pea gestured for her to slide into the booth. 

They all sat down, an uncomfortable silence settling over them for a few moments. Betty set her hands on the table, finally taking the time to observe her surroundings. The bar wasn’t in bad shape. It needed a deep clean and some more windows, but overall it looked like what she had always thought a bar would look like.

“That looks pretty nasty.” Jughead’s voice brought Betty’s attention back to the table, where she was instinctively clutching her hurt hand. Between the adrenaline from the fight and bike ride, then the panic of seeing Jughead, she had completely forgotten about her injured hand. 

“Oh, I forgot about your hand,” Sweet Pea exclaimed, “I’ll go get you some ice.”

“No, that’s…” her voice died out as he jumped up and jogged away. 

“So…” the man across from her drawled. She turned her gaze to him and glowered at the hint of mirth in his eyes. 

“Don’t,” she bit out, averting her eyes, choosing to look anywhere other than him. 

“What?” he exclaimed, a laugh escaping his lips, much to her dismay, “I was just going to let you know that if you wanted to see me again you didn’t have to go and hurt yourself. You could have just texted. You _do_ have my number, you know.” 

Betty grit her teeth. She didn’t want this situation to get out of control. She and Jughead had a working relationship. She almost laughed at herself. What was she expecting? A little more _professionalism_ from her drug dealer? 

Jughead Jones just needed to be reminded of his place in her life. That was exactly what she was going to do before Sweet Pea returned. 

“We are _not_ friends. I don’t know you, and you _don’t_ know me.” Her words were pointed, each one barbed and poised to sink into his skin. She hoped desperately that they hurt. The last thing she wanted was for Jughead Jones to think that he would charm her and, subsequently, push her around. 

“Ah,” he sighed, leaning his face against his fist, “but what if I _want_ to know you?”  
She felt a blush start to creep up her cheeks, but she quelled it, rearranging her face back into a look of disdain. “One word, Jones, and I’ll be complaining to your _boss.”_

His face, which previosuly had been twisted into a smirk, fell. She felt mildly satisfied at knowing that she could wipe that annoying smirk off his face. He didn’t stay that way for long, though. In fact, the blip in his expression was so short-lived that Betty almost thought she might have imagined it. 

He put his hands up in mock surrender, “Alright, Grace Kelly. I won’t say anything.”

She had to bite back another retort, seeing that Sweet Pea was walking back toward their table. She chastised herself harshly. Why was she letting him get to her? She needed to control herself, to be indifferent.

“I mean,” Jughead uttered under his breath, resting his chin on the back of his hand, “I can be your dirty little secret for as long as you’d like.” Betty sucked in a breath, glaring at him. 

“Here you go, Cooper,” Sweet Pea, “hand out on the table, please.”

She complied, laying her hands flat, palms down, on the table. “Thank you,” she said sheepishly. 

“No problem,” Sweet smiled, laying the ice pack wrapped in a paper towel across the back of her hand, “What were you guys talking about?”

Betty froze at the question. She wasn’t good at lying on the spot. Give her time to work it out, and she could hide just about anything, but if any pressure was on her, she crumbled. 

“Not much,” Jughead inserted, “I was just telling Betty here that I’ve never met a Northside boy that was worth breaking my bones over.” She glanced up at Jughead, grateful that he had stepped in. Maybe she wouldn’t have to worry about him spilling her secret. 

“What about…” 

“Shut up, Sweet Pea,” Jughead snapped. The words came out hard, more of a command than a joke between friends. Sweet Pea just smirked, looking pleased with himself. He looked up as someone in the kitchen rang the bell, jumping up and walking quickly to the kitchen. 

As soon as Sweet Pea walked away again, Jughead leaned across the table, so that he was only a foot away from her. “But I bet it felt amazing,” he whispered. His tongue darted out to wet his lips and Betty felt her stomach clench. 

She glared at him, trying to hide her discomfort, “It did.”

Jughead barked out a laugh and shook his head, leaning back to his side of the booth just as Sweet Pea was returning, this time with food in hand. 

“Here we go, burger and fries for Jughead and me, chicken caesar salad for Betty,” he grinned, setting the plates down on the table. 

“Thanks, Sweet Pea,” Betty said, her gaze skipping over the salad and landing on Jughead’s plate, salivating at the sight of the greasy burger and fries. 

“Oh god, did you want a burger?” Sweet Pea rambled, “I’m sorry, I just assumed… you always bring a salad to tutoring and I-” 

“It’s okay, Sweet Pea,” she reassured him, placing a gentle hand on his arm, “My mom would smell the cheese on my breath a mile away, anyway,” she whispered conspiratorially with a smile. 

“Well, in that case,” Jughead grabbed her plate quickly, switching it with his own. He grabbed her fork and dug in, while she sat there, dumbfounded. 

“What?” he said with a mouth full of lettuce, “I’ve got a thing for opposing authority.” 

Betty scoffed, “I’m sure you do.”

“Jesus, Jones. Who raised you?” Sweet Pea shook his head. He looked to Betty and shot her an apologetic smile. Betty smiled back, then looked up to see Jughead’s face no longer smiling, but twisted in something akin to anger. 

The glare Jughead gave Sweet Pea was cold, and the younger boy seemed to shrink away from him for a moment, then, as if she had imagined it, the look was gone, replaced by a quick flash of a predatory smile. 

“Wolves.” 

**~*~**

They chatted idly while they ate, talking about nothing of importance. Jughead asked Sweet Pea how school was going, and he seemed genuinely pleased when the boy told him he was passing all his classes. They talked about school for a while longer, and it didn’t take long for Betty to deduce that Jughead obviously liked reading. He could carry a conversation about every book she had read in her AP English class so far, and all the ones she had read the year before as well. 

She was surprised to hear that he had something to say about most of them, and more than just surface opinions. 

“Ugh, maybe we’ll have to bring you around more often, Betty,” Sweet Pea complained as they finished their food. Betty wiped her face with a napkin, the taste of greasy fries lingering on her tongue. 

“Why is that?” she asked, genuinely curious. 

Sweet Pea motioned for her plate, and she slid it over to him. “Because then Jughead will finally have someone to talk to about the books he’s reading. Maybe if he has you I won’t be forced to sit and listen to him drone on and on about authors who died hundreds of years ago.”

Betty choked out a laugh at Jughead’s unimpressed face. “You mean to tell me that Jughead bores everyone he talks to? Why am I not surprised?”

“Watch yourself, Betty. I haven’t even started talking about Bronte yet,” Jughead simpered. 

“Be still my beating heart,” she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. She bit the corner of her lip to tamp down the smile that was trying to break out. 

Sweet Pea cleared his throat as he grabbed Jughead’s plate. Betty startled and watched as the smirk slipped off Jughead’s face, replaced by a glower that was directed at the younger Serpent. Heat rose in her cheeks and she looked down at the table in an attempt to hide it. 

Sweet Pea walked away with their plates, heading into the kitchen. Betty and Jughead sat in silence, neither of them looking up from the table. Betty’s phone pinged in her pocket, and she drew it out slowly, dreading whatever message might be waiting there for her. 

**B, can we talk?**

Betty scowled at the message from Veronica, seething. Obviously, Archie hadn’t relayed to Veronica that she didn’t want to speak to either of them. She tucked her phone back into her pocket, not wanting to answer the message. She looked up and saw Jughead staring at her, his brows furrowed. Betty looked away quickly. His gaze made her feel _unsteady_. 

Sweet Pea was walking back towards the table, pausing at the end. “So, do you want to get out of here?” he asked Betty, a smile on his face. 

“Uh, sure,” Betty answered, not ready to go home. She feared that she would spend the whole day staring at Archie’s window, fixating. “I just have to go pay for my lunch.”

Sweet Pea chuckled, “Already taken care of.’

“Sweet Pea,” she chastised, “I can pay for my own food.” She felt uncomfortable letting people do nice things for her, probably some side effect of her mother always hammering into her that she needed to be an _independent, self-sufficient_ woman. 

“Not on days when you find out your boyfriend is a lying piece of shit,” he informed her. She was about to answer back when he raised his hands up, palms facing her, “Sorry, Cooper. Serpent policy. You don’t pay for your own lunch on shitty days.” 

Betty sighed, trying to stifle the grin that was threatening to burst forth from her mouth. Really, what did she do to deserve a friend like Sweet Pea?

“Fine,” she huffed, faking exasperation. 

“Good,” Sweet Pea nodded, “Let’s go.”

She got up from her seat, sliding out of the booth to follow Sweet Pea. They were about halfway to the door when Sweet Pea looked over his shoulder and huffed in exasperation. 

“Jone, are you coming or not?” 

Betty turned back to look at the man sitting behind them. A big grin crossed his face, and it pulled at something in Betty’s stomach that she wanted to bury under ten tonnes of earth. 

“Only because you asked so nicely, Sweets.” 

Betty smiled as Sweet Pea whooped, hurrying to the door and throwing it open. The sunshine outside blinded her after the darkness of the Wyrm, but the heat warmed her skin, momentarily washing away her worries.

Sweet Pea held out the helmet to Betty and she took it, raising a brow. 

“Where are we going?” she asked, trying not to watch as Jughead threw a fitted leather jacket over his shoulders. 

Sweet Pea simply laughed, mounting the bike and jerking his head, telling her to climb on. “You’ll see, Cooper.” 

Her stomach twisted for a moment, unused to not knowing the plan beforehand, but she took a deep breath and blew it out between her teeth. Maybe not being in control would be good for her. She trusted Sweet Pea, and she was exhausted from being in charge all the time. She climbed on the bike and wrapped her arms around Sweet Pea loosely. 

“Alright, Sweet Pea. Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loved it? Hated it? Got theories? Questions? Let me know in the comments! Also, come hang out with me on Tumblr (same username as here)! We have a super fun time over there!


	3. Sweetwater River

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I hope you all had a great week and took care of yourselves!

**Saturday Afternoon**

Betty could have never imagined that she would love being on the back of a motorcycle as much as she did. They were outside Riverdale now, driving down an underused paved road. The autumn air was unseasonably warm, caressing her skin gently. She had no clue where they were headed, but she found, as they drove, that she no longer really cared. 

They could have driven around all afternoon and that would have been enough for her. 

In a moment of courage, she unwrapped her arms from Sweet Pea’s waist, where they had been resting loosely, and lifted them up to the sky, reveling in the feeling of the wind rushing between her fingers. It was amazing, the purest form of freedom. She felt like she was flying. Before she could stop it, a peel of laughter escaped her lips. She felt Sweet Pea chuckle in front of her, then he let out a loud whoop. Betty smiled widely, taking a deep breath of the fresh air. She let out a shout of her own, for once not worrying what someone might think of her for being less than ladylike or put-together.

There was the loud roar of a motorcycle beside them and she looked over to see Jughead, smirking at them, shaking his head. She only smiled wider. Betty didn’t care if he thought she was being ridiculous. She was having _fun,_ for once, and she wouldn’t let anyone wreck that. 

They rode along for a few more minutes before Sweet Pea began to slow. Betty looked around him to see two motorcycles parked on the side of the road up ahead, along with a familiar red convertible. She furrowed her brow in confusion. 

The two men came to slow stops, parking their bikes alongside the others, and dismounted. Sweet Pea held out a hand to help down, which she accepted gratefully. They hadn’t been riding long, but her legs were already a little numb from the vibrations of the engine. She took off the helmet and hung it off the handlebars, throwing her hair up in a bun. 

Sweet Pea and Jughead were already heading towards the trees that lined the road. Betty regarding them curiously, wondering where they were headed. She hesitated to follow them, a quiet part of her mind warning her that walking into the woods was dangerous, but then Sweet Pea looked back at her, flashing a smile over his shoulder. 

“Come on, Cooper,” he exclaimed. She couldn’t help but return his infectious smile. _You trust him,_ she reminded herself. She knew that he wouldn’t do anything that would put her in danger. 

She hurried down the shallow ditch, ducking under the branch that Sweet Pea was holding up for her. Following the narrow trail that wound through the trees, she saw Jughead only a few meters ahead of her, pushing branches out of the way. She popped out of the trees, taking in her surroundings in amazement. There was a small beach, probably only a hundred feet wide, with trees closed in tightly around it. At the end of the sand was Sweetwater River, the current here lazy and slow. There were already some people down at the water, although Betty only recognized one of them. 

Sweet Pea emerged from the trees behind her and shouted out to the others, “Hey, idiots!” He led Betty down the beach, stopping close to the shore. “Fangs, Toni, Joaquin, this is Betty,” Sweet Pea introduced, pointing to each person as he said their name. 

Betty waved nervously, looking at each one. Betty tilted her head in surprise as a redheaded woman popped out from behind a girl with long, pink hair. 

“Hello, cousin,” Cheryl greeted, a sly smile on her face. 

“Hey, Cheryl,” Betty answered, bewildered. The last place she would have ever expected to see Cheryl was waist-deep in a river, her arms wrapped a Southside Serpent. But that was part of the allure of Cheryl Blossom, one could always expect the unexpected. 

Betty didn’t get a chance to say anything else after that, because beside her Sweet Pea was tearing off his shirt, throwing it into the sand. His pants were next, leaving him only in his boxers. She watched in amusement as he rushed into the river, water splashing all around him as he ran. She smiled as he threw water on the shorter boy, Joaquin, whose face soured in mocked disgust. He tried to lunge at Sweet Pea, but missed, which only caused Sweet Pea to laugh, grabbing the other Serpent, and toss him under the water. 

Betty watched as the scene devolved into a half-underwater wrestling match, with all three boys pushing and shoving each other. She looked over to the pink-haired girl, Toni, who was cuddling close to Cheryl, the two whispering and giggling away from the noise of the boys. 

She was pulled from her observing when Sweet Pea shouted from the river, “Cooper! Are you coming in?”

Betty froze. She didn’t have a bathing suit, which meant she would have to go in just as Sweet Pea had, in her undergarments. She laughed nervously, “I’m good, Sweet Pea. I’ll just sit up here.”

Sweet Pea’s smile dropped briefly, “Are you sure?” 

Betty nodded and waved him on, watching as he nodded at her, a tentative smile creeping across his face, and headed back into the river’s depths, tackling Fangs as he went. 

Betty grinned to herself and walked up towards the trees, sitting down to take off her shoes and bury her feet in the soft sand. She breathed in the fresh autumn air, reveling in the beauty around her. She had no idea that there was anywhere along Sweetwater River that had shores like this. Most of the usual spots she had gone as a child had rocky shores, which had required water shoes to protect her and Polly’s feet. 

She was thinking about those days by the river’s edge, when her family was still whole and happy, when sand kicked up beside her. She shied away instinctively, looking to see what the cause was, and was greeted with the sight of Jughead sitting in the sand beside her. 

She sighed and rolled her eyes. He was the last person she wanted to talk to. Well, maybe second last. 

“You don’t like swimming?” he asked her. She could hear the smirk in his words and turned her head to look at him out of one eye. 

“Not in my underwear,” she answered shortly, not wanting to encourage him into prolonging the conversation.

She intended to take this time to soak up whatever vitamin D she could get, knowing that the ever-present overcast of winter would soon be on the way. She certainly was not going to make nice with the drug-dealing, gang member sitting beside her. 

He hummed in response and she hoped that that would be the end of the conversation, but he spoke again a few minutes later. 

“I never understood that,” he began, leaning back on his elbows. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of answering. 

She wasn’t. 

She didn’t care about what he did and didn’t understand. She didn’t care about what thoughts ran rampant in his head. 

It turned out it didn’t matter if she conversed with him, because he was happy to do so on his own. 

“Why do girls make such a big deal out of wearing a bikini or a bra and underwear? They’re pretty much the same thing.”

Betty turned to look at him, wondering just what he was playing at. Was he trying to _offend_ her into talking to him? 

“They both have the same amount of… visibility,” he crooned, raising his eyebrows at her. 

She choked on air, “It’s not about _visibility,”_ she exclaimed, forgetting her oath to not speak to him, “it’s about principles.”

“Principles?” 

“Yes,” she asserted, “mainly having some, for starters.” She sounded like her mother, she knew that the moments the words left her lips. Every word dripped with judgment. She tried to still the wince that was aching to shiver down her body. Betty didn’t like doing anything like her mother. 

She didn’t know what she had been expecting from Jughead, but it wasn’t the harsh bark of laughter that emanated from him. 

She turned to look at him and was startled by the dark grin on his face, shaking his head in what looked to be disbelief. “You are astounding.” 

She scoffed, trying to hide how ashamed she was at her own words, “And what makes you say that?”

“The fact that you can sit there on your high horse and judge me, after yesterday.” He had leaned in closer to her as he finished speaking, closing the gap between them monumentally. 

Betty froze, knowing that he was right. She had no ground to stand on when it came to moral implications. She was no better than him, really. She was buying illegal prescription medication in a skeezy back alley on the wrong side of town every other week. There really was no moral high ground there. 

Still, she didn’t want to give the brooding Serpent the impression that he could walk all over her. She shuddered to think of what might happen if he thought to track down her mother and tell Alice exactly what Betty was doing. 

Betty narrowed her eyes and hoped that she looked menacing, “Malachai is only a text away, Jones,” she warned, “Don’t push me.”

Jughead leaned back, smirking. “My, my, Betty. Feeling a little vicious, are we?”

Betty shook her head, retraining her focus on the teens in the river. She needed to get it together. She shouldn’t be anywhere near Jughead Jones, he had the power to rip down everything she had worked for. Betty leaned back on her elbows, feigning disinterest, casting a quick look at him. “Go away.” 

He looked like he was about to respond when he phone pinged in his pocket. She watched out of the corner of her eye as he pulled it out and checked the screen. She could have sworn she saw a dark shadow pass over his features, but when she blinked it was gone. 

He stood up swiftly, brushing the sand from his jeans. He waved at Sweet Pea and shouted down the beach, “Sweets, I got to go!” 

Betty watched Sweet Pea nod, a meaningful look passing between the two. “Catch you later, Jug!” Sweet Pea yelled back. The others in the water waved as well, smiling and grinning as they continued to push each other. 

Jughead cast one more look down at Betty, speaking quietly, “See you soon, Betty.” 

She sneered after him, hating that he felt like he had an advantage over her. He was smug and self-righteous, grating on every one of her nerves. She was glad that he was leaving. She had about had her fill of men who thought they knew her for one day. She heard his bike start in the distance, and consequently take off down the road. 

Betty leaned back to lay on the sand, focusing on the sound of the water splashing, and people enjoying their day. 

* * *

It was over an hour later before the Serpents and Cheryl finally decided to get out of the water. At some point, Betty had moved to sit up closer to the tree line, hiding in the shade. The last thing she needed was to have to explain to Alice how she had gotten a tan sitting inside a library, tutoring all day. 

She sat up straight as the group emerged from the river. The smallest of them, Joaquin, was what Betty would call classically handsome. He had smooth olive skin, and jet-black hair, was lean but still muscular. He was probably only a few inches taller than Betty. 

He tossed a towel to the other Serpent, Fangs. He was taller than Joaquin, but much shorter than Sweet Pea, and was currently trying to whip Sweet Pea with his towel, not having much success. He also had the same olive skin and dark hair. 

Betty looked at Sweet Pea, then remembered Jughead, and wondered if the Serpents had a preference as to how their members looked. All four of the younger male members that she had met now all bore striking resemblances. She smiled to herself, laughing internally at the thought of a widely feared gang deciding membership based on appearances. 

They were all chatting idly and joking around, poking fun at each other. Betty watched enviously, knowing that she would never feel this carefree around her friends. She wondered how many of the Vixens knew about Archie and Veronica, how many of them had refrained from telling her. Her inner circle had crumbled, and she wondered if she was about to spend the rest of her senior year avoiding social gatherings to spare her from the embarrassment of being cheated on. 

She was pulled from her thoughts as Sweet Pea walked up to stand in front of her. 

“You know, Cooper, bringing here was meant to take your mind _off_ your problems. Why do I get the feeling that you are stewing?”

Betty forced a smile, surprised, as she often was, that the raven-haired boy knew her as well as he did. She had a terrible poker face, she knew that, but even so. Sweet Pea seemed to always know exactly what she was thinking. 

“I am not stewing,” she assured him, wincing as he raised an eyebrow at her, unconvinced. “I wasn’t stewing the whole time,” she tried again. This was met with a small smile from the man towering over her. He extended his hand and she grasped it, letting him help her up. 

They stood side-by-side in amicable silence, watching as the others got dried off and dressed. Sweet Pea spoke softly, startling her slightly, “Hey,” he started, turning to face her, “I’m sorry if I seemed pushy this morning. I just… didn’t want you to spend all day at home, alone, and sad. I guess I hoped that I could get your mind off it for at least a little while.” 

A rush of warmth radiated over every inch of her. She hadn’t for one second thought that Sweet Pea had been pushy. When he had told her to follow him after telling Archie to leave, she had been so grateful that she wouldn’t have to be alone all day, or spend the day tutoring, for that matter. 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she nudged him gently with her shoulder, “I had fun.” 

He smiled for a moment, but there was no sincerity behind it. She moved to stand in front of him, looking directly up into his eyes. 

“Sweet Pea, thank you for today,” Betty emphasized, smiling widely. “It was nice to get out of the house.”

He nodded and smiled, genuinely this time. “I guess I should get you back home before your Mom gets there” Sweet Pea conceded, stretching his arms above his head. 

“Unnecessary, Lurch,” a voice called out from behind Betty. Cheryl was making her way towards them, her hair twisted into a thick braid, her sunglasses hiding her eyes. “I’ll be taking my dearest Betty home. Your services won’t be needed.”

Betty raised an eyebrow, wondering what Cheryl was planning. The maple heiress didn’t usually offer her kindness unless there was something in it for herself. Betty thought about turning down the offer, but then reconsidered. It would be less suspicious if her cousin dropped her off back at home, as opposed to a Southside Serpent on a motorbike. 

“Thanks, Cheryl,” she answered, narrowing her eyes slightly. Betty turned to Sweet Pea again, smiling demurely at his questioning look. “I’ll be okay. Thanks again for everything.”

She reached her arms out for a quick hug, feeling dwarfed by Sweet Pea’s sheer size. 

They both let go and Betty turned to Cheryl, tilting her head slightly. “Ready?”

“Always, _ma cherie.”_

* * *

Betty sat on the tan leather and watched as the trees along the road flickered by. She was grateful that Cheryl had offered a ride, but the tense silence was almost enough to send her over the edge. She didn’t want to be the first one to talk, but apparently neither did Cheryl. 

They sat in the quiet for a few more miles before Cheryl finally cleared her throat, her voice lilting, “So how does Betty Cooper end up at a secret Serpent hideout?” 

Betty tensed at the question, unsure of Cheryl’s intentions. It was always difficult to figure out the redhead’s motivations. 

“Sweet Pea and I are friends,” she answered slowly. 

“What a charming friendship,” Cheryl exclaimed, “Does Aunt Alice know? I’m sure she would approve. You know how much she loves the Southside,” Cheryl taunted, her voice sickly sweet. 

“Alright, Cheryl. What do you want?” Betty ground out, her voice clipped. Sometimes it was easier to be direct with her cousin. Trying to outmaneuver her was a feat for a different day, it would seem. 

“Betty, are you suggesting I have ulterior motives?” she asked, her hand coming up to her chest. 

Betty rolled her eyes, turning to completely face the girl driving now. “Cheryl…” she warned. 

Cheryl responded with a sigh and an eye roll of her own. “You are no fun, sometimes.” 

The words stung as Betty remembered similar sentiments from Archie from that morning. She clenched her fists and waited for Cheryl to continue. She could be fun. Couldn’t she?

“I would just like to know the truth,” Cheryl simpered, “Mainly, how do you know Sweet Pea?”

Betty leaned her cheek against an open palm, her elbow resting on her knee, which she had pulled up to her chest. 

“Tutoring,” she answered simply, continuing when Cheryl gave her a look that urged her to explain further. “I started tutoring kids from the Southside last year for extra credit. Sweet Pea was one of them and we became friends.”

Cheryl nodded, taking this information in before asking another question, “Do you and your tutoring students usually go on afternoon bike rides to Sweetwater River?”

Betty paused before answering, then muttered, “No. Today was… a special circumstance.” She didn’t want to tell Cheryl about Archie and Veronica, but at this rate, she didn’t see how she could avoid it. And maybe having someone to talk to would make her feel a little better. But this was Cheryl, so probably not. 

“Special how?” Cheryl probed. 

Betty sighed. Better to just say it and get the embarrassment over with. “Archie cheated on me,” she whispered, hating how hurt she sounded. 

Cheryl was silent for a moment, then started speaking quickly, her voice rising in anger. “Cheated… on you? Does that ingrate know how lucky he is to have someone that with put up with his _absolute_ mediocrity? The audacity of the blue-collar class. Well, never fear, cousin. I will rain down hellfire on the cretin the likes of which have never been seen before. I -”

“Cheryl,” Betty interrupted earnestly, “That’s really not necessary. I… I would rather keep this quiet...please.” 

Betty watched as Cheryl appraised her out of the corner of her eye. There was silence and for a moment she thought that Cheryl might decline her request. It wouldn’t be out of reach for Cheryl to enact revenge without any personal stake in the matter, sometimes she did it just because she was bored. But Betty didn’t want her dirty laundry aired out for the whole school to see. 

“Fine,” Cheryl bit out, her tone clipped, “I will restrain myself.”

Betty heaved out a sigh of relief, “Thank you Cher-”

“But,” Cheryl interrupted, “if that overgrown troll says a single word to you that bears any contempt whatsoever, I _will_ destroy him.” Her words came out sickly sweet, despite the threat. 

Betty turned to face the road again, hiding a smirk that was trying to break through. Cheryl may drive Betty crazy, but she was loyal. “Okay, Cher.”

* * *

Betty had gotten home earlier enough to beat her mother there. She filled her extra time with homework and some household chores, refraining from doing anything that would take too much energy. She was exhausted, every joint in her body protesting being out of bed, but she had homework to do, and so she had dug out the small pill bottle from her backpack, popping one into her mouth. 

She was upstairs tackling an English assignment when her mother got home. Betty hoped that Alice wouldn’t want to see her right away. She wanted to prolong the inevitable for as long as possible. 

She listened as her mother bumped around in the kitchen, the occasional clang of a pot or pan ringing through the house. Betty focused back on her homework, knowing that Alice would call her down when she wanted to see her. 

It was about forty-five minutes later when Alice finally called up the stairs, “Dinner, Elizabeth.”

Betty took a breath, stretching deeply, before standing. She walked down the stairs and into the kitchen, the smell of chicken and rice wafting to meet her. 

She started getting the table ready for dinner, grabbing two plates, along with two forks from the drawer directly underneath it. Betty headed to the table, grabbing two placemats on her way, before laying everything out on the table. Just as she was finishing, her mother brought over a casserole dish, placing it on the trivet that always sat out. Betty headed back into the kitchen to grab two glasses, along with the pitcher of water out of the fridge. She set them down and then sat to the left of her mother, who was seated at the head of the table. 

Alice reached forward to put a chicken breast on Betty’s plate, along with a scoop of rice. Betty muttered a thank you and starting cutting the meat with her fork, hoping that if she ate quietly, her mother wouldn’t ask her about her day. 

Alice let her sit and think the silence would prevail for a few minutes before starting her line of questioning, “How was tutoring today?” 

“It was good,” Betty answered, “We made quite a bit of progress, actually.”

Alice scoffed, “I don’t know why you even tutor this child. What are the chances of him even making it to graduation?”

For a moment, all Betty felt was blind rage. Her mother could be harsh and judgemental, and that was on a good day. But her hatred for the Southside brought out the absolute worst in her, making her cruel and vindictive. 

“Sweet Pea is a really good student, Mom. He tries hard and works harder,” Betty defended, not liking to hear her friend being damned just because he was born on the wrong side of town. 

Alice answered by rolling her eyes. “And how does your boyfriend feel about you spending the whole day in the Southside with some delinquent?”

Betty tensed. She had known that this was coming. She knew she would have to tell her mother about what had happened between her and Archie eventually, but that didn’t mean that she wanted to, or that she was looking forward to it. 

“I’m not sure he has an opinion about it, Mom,” Betty started, trying to keep the venom in her voice to a minimum. 

“No?” Alice asked sarcastically, “Does his opinion not matter?”

Betty scowled and clenched her jaw. She decided that if she was going to tell Alice, then she was just going to throw it out there. Maybe the shock would get her mother off her back. 

“Considering that I caught him cheating on me with Veronica last night, I would say it’s fair to assume his opinion about me no longer matters, yes,” Betty spat out bitterly. The confession got the reaction she wanted for a few moments, her mother sitting before her with her eyes wide. 

The shock only lasted for a few seconds before Alice rearranged her face back into a mask of cool indifference. 

“Good Lord, Elizabeth. There’s no need for dramatics. He’s a high school boy. He doesn’t know what he wants. Let him play out this little dalliance with the Lodge girl. He’ll come back when he wants stability again.”

Betty stared at her mother, her mouth opening and closing. Did Alice not get the fact that even if Archie did come crawling back, that Betty wouldn’t want him anyways. What about love? Trust? Did those things matter at all to her mother? Betty swallowed her anger. No, she decided. They probably didn’t matter to Alice. Her mother had always been more concerned with status over things like love and mutual respect. 

“And Elizabeth?” Betty looked up from her food at her mother, one of Alice’s perfect eyebrows arched. “The people who disrespect you are the ones whose opinions of you matter most. They can bring you down in a moment. Don’t forget that.” 

Betty trained her eyes back on her plate, pushing her rice around the plate. “Yes, Mom.”

They ate the rest of their meal in silence. 

* * *

Betty lay in her bed, staring up at the ceiling. Tears leaked down her face without permission. Sometimes her whole world felt like it was crashing down on her, like when a deadline was fast approaching, or her mother was being extra _diligent_ in her parenting. It was at these times that Betty would hide away in her room and lay in her bed as she was now, staring at the ceiling and taking deep breaths. Sometimes it only took ten minutes for the tightness in her chest to dissipate, sometimes it took over an hour. 

That night, in particular, she had been staring at the ceiling for over two hours and her chest still ached like someone was sitting on her. She was starting to get frustrated, hence the tears. She just wanted to feel normal, to _be_ normal. A normal teenager with normal problems and responsibilities. She didn’t want to feel like the weight of the world was resting on her shoulders, and that if she set it down, even just for a moment, then the whole thing would start on fire. 

She laid there like that for hours, wishing that she could fall asleep, that she could change her life, that she could disappear. 

When she finally did get pulled under, her dreams were fitful, images of half-naked bodies and disapproving mothers cornering her until she wanted to scream. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Liked it? Hated it? Wanted to scream into a pillow? Let me know in the comments, I love hearing from you guys! Also, come hang out with me on Tumblr, we have a blast!


	4. Flight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have risen, my guys and gals and non-binary friends. Thank you so much to all of those who have commented or left a kudos. You guys are honestly the most amazing people ever. I never expected this fic to get the attention that it has (I kinda thought it was going to be a passion project that faded into the ether) but the fact that you guy like it enough to read and keep reading makes my heart want to burst! Have fun and stay safe out there!

**Monday**

Betty sat at her desk, staring at the corkboard above it. There were pictures from the last three years of high school, many of them featuring both Archie and Veronica. A spike of anger flowed through her veins, then dissipated just as quickly. That had become a common occurrence over the past two days. Quick flashes of white-hot rage that sapped all her energy away from her, leaving her exhausted. 

She reached up and unpinned a photograph of Veronica and herself. They were in their Vixens uniforms, shortly after they had gotten on the team. Both girls were beaming with excitement and pride, each having an arm slung around the other’s waist. Betty lifted the picture up to eye-level, searching the visage of the raven-haired girl, trying to see if there was a hint, a clue, something Betty had missed. Because certainly there had been. 

Some red flag that Betty had ignored. Something that would have alluded to all the pain that her former best friend would cause her. But the harder she looked, the less she saw. A flicker of drapes from across the space between houses drew her attention and she knew that Archie was looking for a glimpse of her. He had been doing that since the morning before, coming to the window and opening the drapes periodically, as if hoping to see her waiting in the window for him. Betty had kept her own curtains closed, but the wind that was rustling them gently probably made it look like she was constantly standing at her window. 

She wasn’t.

She looked back down at the picture and without pausing to consider it for too long, ripped it down the middle, splitting the two girls apart. Betty tossed the half that didn’t include herself in the wastebasket, then hung the other half up again. She didn’t want to see Veronica’s face in person, let alone on her walls. 

Betty sat for a moment longer, feeling the strength sap from her body. Emotionally cutting ties was exhausting, she was learning. She steeled herself with a deep breath, then reached into her backpack, grabbing the bottle from the bottom. Betty rolled the bottle in her palm, debating on whether she should take an extra dose that morning. She glanced up at her corkboard again, a broad, white grin taunting her. She shook out a pill and swallowed it quickly, then grabbed her things and marched downstairs. 

She was in no mood to entertain her mother that morning, rearranging her face into a mask of neutrality. Betty walked to the cupboard by the sink and shook out an Adderall, gulping it down with a glass of water, feeling the first pill finally unstick from her throat. Alice turned to make a remark, but Betty was already heading to the counter, grabbing the banana and slice of unbuttered toast that sat there. 

“Elizabeth, what are you doing?” her mother demanded indignantly. Betty simply grabbed her lunch bag and started walking to the door. 

“It’s printing day, Mom. I have to get to school early,” she chirped, feigning happiness. She didn’t want to sit around and be told,  _ yet again, _ to stop moping, to keep her chin up, to not embarrass the Cooper name, as if she could do that more than the rest of her family already had. 

She was out the door before her mother could respond again, the door shutting firmly behind her as she walked quickly down the steps. She glanced at the Andrews’ house, making sure the coast was clear before taking off down the sidewalk. Betty knew that Archie was going to try and corner her at some point in the day, but she was going to do her best to avoid the altercation at all costs. 

She was about a half-block from her house before her shoulders came down from around her ears, her breath relaxing once again. 

Now all she had to do was get through the day. 

~*~

Betty walked through the front doors, hating the way her skin crawled. She had been attending Riverdale High for three years and never once had she felt like she didn’t belong there. But as she walked down the hall she realized just how quickly that could all change. Gone was the ease of being bright and bubbly Betty Cooper. She felt tainted by bitterness and anger, and she hated it. Hated that he had taken something from her, that he had essentially ruined her last year of high school. This was supposed to be the best year of her life. And he had burned it all to the ground. 

After running down to the Blue & Gold, smiling happily when she saw her freshmen folding and piling newspapers in stacks. The papers would get sent out just before the lunch break and then Betty would get about a half-day of reprieve before she needed to start thinking about the next issue. Betty smirked to herself, remembering her lie to her mother that morning. Truth be told, she hadn’t needed to be present on printing day since she had brought Ethel on last year. The girl was amazing and organized, and always had printing and distribution under control. But Alice didn’t need to know that. And it was one morning of the week that she could skip her morning interrogation with her mother. 

She left the office, walking down the hallway, watching the students around her carefully. She was met with the usual smiles and waves. There was a distinct lack of pitying looks and whispering, and she hoped that the absence meant that no one had aired her dirty laundry over the weekend. It made sense that no one at the high school would know. The group of people who knew what had happened last Friday was relatively small and no one stood to gain anything from injecting her sordid love life into the rumor mill. She hoped it stayed that way. 

Betty rounded the corner and halted to a stop at the sight of Archie standing against her locker. Her heart hammered in her chest, a spike of nausea rolling through her. She threw herself back around the corner that she had come from, hoping that he hadn’t seen her. Betty backed up against the wall, her chest heaving erratically. She tried to remind herself to breathe. There was no reason to spiral in a panic just because she saw her now ex-boyfriend in the hall. They had another eight months of senior year to endure together, not to mention another two months of football season. She was going to see him, and frequently. She needed to get her shit together, she reminded herself, squeezing her eyes shut tightly. She took a deep breath and tried to will her blood pressure to lower, to no avail. 

The warning bell rang above her and the traffic in the hall began to thin as students made their way to class. Betty needed to get her books and get to her first class but found that she couldn’t peel herself away from the wall to even look around the corner. 

She saw her opportunity in the form of a small freshman passing by, Betty’s hand shooting out and grabbing them by the shoulder. The look of terror on the young girls’ face faded when she saw that it was Betty Cooper who had grabbed her. She couldn’t have been taller than five feet, the top of her head barely coming to Betty’s shoulders. Her hair was midnight black and styled straight as a pin, the tresses hanging down her back in a thick length. She was pretty, Betty thought, in a natural way that she herself had always been envious of. 

“Do you know who Archie Andrews is?” Betty asked, her voice a hushed whisper. She knew that the question probably sounded ridiculous coming from her, but at that point, she truly didn’t care. She didn’t want to see Archie yet. The girl in front of her nodded with a bewildered look on her face. “Can you tell me if he’s standing in the hall still?”

The girl looked at Betty questioningly for a moment, and Betty waited for the barrage of questions that she was sure was about to come her way, but the girl simply shrugged and looked around the corner. 

Betty watched with rapt attention as the girl turned to face her again, shaking her head. “There’s no one down there.” Betty let out a sigh of relief. He must have left for class, giving up on trying to see her. 

“Thank you…” Betty trailed off, realizing she didn’t know the girl’s name. 

“Destiny,” the freshman finished, smiling up at Betty. Betty felt her mouth curl into a smile.

“Thanks, Destiny.”

Destiny nodded once, “No problem,” she said with ease before turning to walk to her class. 

Betty watched her walk away for a moment before peeling herself off the wall, rushing to her locker. She had about one minute to get to class now, thanks to Archie. She opened her locker and grabbed her books, slamming it shut as she jogged down the hall. It was only nine in the morning and already she was off to a bad start. She hoped her day would get better 

~*~

Her day had  _ not  _ gotten better. She had spent the majority of it hiding from both Archie and Veronica, ducking behind students, trophy cases, and anything else that would shield her. More than once she had heard Archie’s exasperated sigh when he would once again lose sight of her.

She knew she was probably being childish, that her mother would absolutely chastise her for her avoidance of conflict if she found out, but she couldn’t bring herself to be face to face with Archie. No part of her wanted to be anywhere near him. 

The final bell of the day rang out, signaling the end of the school day, and the end of Betty’s ability to avoid people she would rather not see. It was Monday, which meant Vixen’s practice, which consequently meant spending the next hour and a half alongside Veronica. Betty briefly considered skipping practice, but ultimately disregarded the urge. She was a captain, there was no way she could get around it. 

Betty walked to her locker to drop off the books that she wouldn’t be needing for homework that evening and placed her backpack on the ledge of her locker. She had taken her time getting to her locker, hoping that the students would mostly be gone by the time she reached her destination. She looked up and down the hall, satisfied when she found the hall empty. Betty reached her hand down into the depths of her backpack, finding the hidden pouch easily. She grabbed the bottle and shook out a pill, tossing it back with a gulp from her water bottle. She needed to be focused at Vixen practice. If she let Veronica believe that she was anything less than in control, things could fall apart very quickly. Meaning that Veronica was a shark, and if she smelled blood in the water, she was likely to attack. 

Betty hefted her backpack onto her shoulder and closed her locker door with a bang. She needed to get changed, and hopefully, get into the gym before Veronica had a chance to talk to her. 

Betty let loose a sigh as soon as she walked into the change room. Why did nothing ever work out the way she wanted it to? There was Veronica, perched by her locker, laying in wait. Betty should have known that she couldn’t escape the heiress for long, for a few reasons. The main one being that Veronica was terrifyingly determined, and usually didn’t give up on an idea, ever. She saw everything through, including, apparently, cornering Betty. Another reason could be that Veronica was incapable of losing. Betty had known in some part of her mind that once she refused to talk to Veronica, there was a large possibility of it becoming almost like a cat-and-mouse game to the other girl. She wouldn’t stop pursuing Betty until she got what she wanted, which was a conversation, if the hyper focused eyes that were now trained on her were any indication. 

Betty dropped her bag at Veronica’s feet, grabbing her wrist tightly before she had a chance to start speaking. If Veronica wanted to talk, then Betty would talk, but it was going to be on  _ her  _ terms. She dragged Veronica out the door and back into the hall. Betty let go of Veronica’s wrist when she tried to tear it away, resulting in the girl taking a lurching step back. Betty turned to face her, stifling the smile she felt forming at the look of fury on her former friends’ face. 

“That was highly unnecessary, Betty. I just want to talk.” Veronica brushed invisible dust off her practice uniform. Betty resisted the urge to roll her eyes, hating that even now, Veronica was intent on acting as if she had the moral high ground. Betty refused to let her continue believing that, thinking of the meanest words she could sling at Veronica. 

“Sleeping with my boyfriend was unnecessary, too, but that didn’t stop you.” The words came fluidly, leaving her mouth with ease despite the anger she felt boiling up inside her. She needed to stay in control. Fighting with Veronica was a marathon, not a sprint. Her words had the intended effect, Veronica’s face now warped with shock and shame. Perfect. 

“I was hoping we could be civil about this -” Betty scoffed audibly, her jaw clenching painfully. She wasn’t interested in civility. She wanted facts. Information. She had a practice to run, she didn’t have time for Veronica’s games. 

“How long?” A pause, as if the raven-haired girl had never expected Betty to ask so bold a question. 

“Excuse me?” 

Betty took a shallow breath and set her face into hard lines. She repeated herself. “How long have you two been sneaking around?” She watched with muted delight as Veronica squirmed under her gaze.    
“I really don’t think that matters as much as -” 

“Alright, then we’re done here,” Betty stated, turning to walk back into the change rooms. She knew Veronica well enough to know that she wouldn’t want to leave a fight unresolved. She hoped that Veronica wouldn’t call her bluff. 

“Wait!” 

Betty let out a sigh of content, secretly happy that she knew Veronica well enough to predict at least that much. Obviously not well enough to anticipate the heiress to sleep with her boyfriend, but well enough to hold her own in a conversation. 

“How  _ long? _ ” Betty shouted, wheeling about to face the other girl, her voice bouncing off the lockers, causing Veronica to flinch. Betty drew herself up taller, feeling powerful. She was never the one to intimidate, to scare others, to cause them to back down. It felt good. 

“Since the fourth of July,” Veronica whispered the admission. 

Betty felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the hallway.  _ Months.  _ They had been making a fool out of her for months. All sound around her became muffled as her vision tunneled in on the floor at her feet. How many times had Betty let Archie kiss her when his lips had been on  _ hers  _ the same day? How many times had she let him see her naked since then? Had she let him touch her skin? 

She felt the steady hum of the Ritalin in her body, the euphoria that often came with the pill twisting into something ugly when it collided with her rage. The tainted emotion sloshed around inside her, begging to be let out, when a crack in Veronica’s voice brought Betty back to the situation in front of her. 

“- _ please _ , Betty. I know we can all work this out if we just sit down and talk about it and -”

Betty barked a harsh laugh, the sound echoing off the walls. She clenched her hands into tight fists, relishing in the feeling of nails puncturing flesh. “You think we can talk this out?” she admonished, “Veronica, I don’t want to be your friend, let alone  _ speak  _ to you.” 

Veronica jerked back at the venom in Betty’s voice and the blonde felt a cruel smile curl on her lips.  _ Good.  _ Maybe if her words were acidic enough, the woman in front of her would disintegrate. 

“Betty, you can’t mean that. You… you’re my best friend. Can’t we please just… fix this?”

“No. You don’t even know what a friend is. Because a friend would never hurt someone the way you’ve hurt me.” Betty threw the words at her, watching as each one hit like a missile. “You know what? You and Archie are perfect for each other. Selfish, entitled, and conceited. I wish you all the happiness in the world.” 

Betty spun on her heel, leaving Veronica to stand in the hallway. She hoped that her words hurt, that they dug in deep, burrowing into Veronica’s skin until they were seeded there for the rest of the girl’s life. 

~*~

Betty was exhausted. After her parting words with Veronica, she had gotten changed and conducted the Vixen practice as if nothing was amiss. She had hoped that her cutting words would be enough to cow Veronica into submission for at least a little while, but the heiress had entered the gym with steel in her eyes, all evidence of their argument hidden behind walls of indifference.

They acted as if nothing was wrong, with the exception of their trademark camaraderie. Gone were the sly jokes and smiles, the soft discussions as they watched the girls move through their routines. Instead, there were heavy silences, followed by awkward, stilted conversations. 

Hence, the exhaustion. 

After practice, Veronica had headed into the dressing room, intent on making a quick getaway. Betty was still putting away some of the mats they used for tumbling when Cheryl walked up behind her, her voice soft and quiet. 

“Trouble in paradise?” she simpered, her words dripping with insincerity. 

Betty huffed a sigh and stood up straight, abandoning the mat she was dragging. “She wanted a chance to explain. I didn’t want to hear it.” 

Cheryl simply hummed, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. Betty waited for her cousin to say something, it was obvious she wanted to, but when the silence prevailed for a moment longer, Betty simply bent back over to begin dragging the mat again. 

She had almost dragged it back to the storage closet, silently cursing Cheryl for not helping, when the redhead spoke again. 

“You are full of surprises, cousin.” 

Betty stopped again to look at Cheryl, quirking an eyebrow. 

“I didn’t know you had it in you to stand up for yourself.” Betty opened her mouth to respond, but Cheryl continued softy, “Good for you.” 

Betty snapped her mouth shut and watched as Cheryl walked away. She  _ did  _ know how to stand up for herself. She always had known how to. It was just never… a  _ priority  _ to do so. She would be the first to admit that sometimes it was easier to let people stomp around than it was to tell them to stop. 

She pulled the mat back into its storage closet and shut the door, heading into the dressing room. It was completely empty, something she was grateful for. She started changing back into her street clothes, packing up her things methodically. It was Monday, which meant that her mother would be working late to get ready for the Register to go to print tomorrow. Which meant an empty house, and avoiding her window so she wouldn’t see Archie. 

She sat on the bench and tugged on her flats, feeling the beginning of a plan start to spool in her thoughts. She grabbed her phone and texted before she could change her mind. 

**Hey, Sweet Pea**

She didn’t have to wait long for a response. 

**Cooper, to what do I owe the pleasure?**

Betty smiled, imagining the way Sweet Pea’s pitched up when he was teasing her. 

**Do you want to hang out tonight?**

She knew the request was a little out there. They  _ were  _ friends, but with her busy schedule and a boyfriend, she had never really had time to hang out with Sweet Pea other than at tutoring sessions, something that they had lamented many times in the past. They mostly texted throughout the week, trading funny memes and pictures back and forth, or talking about their families. They did that a lot. She stared at her screen, typing out another quick message. 

**I don’t want to go home just yet.**

The response was instantaneous. 

**Absolutely.**

**Pick you up at Pop’s in 15?**

Betty smiled, heaving a sigh of relief. She wouldn’t have to spend the evening sad and alone. There were other people in her life besides Archie and Veronica, she reminded herself. She keyed out a quick response and grabbed her bag. Pop’s was about a ten-minute walk from the school, she needed to get going if she didn’t want to be late. 

**See you there.**

~*~

It wasn’t quite dark by the time she reached Pop’s, the neons beginning to glow in the fading light. She walked up the familiar steps, wondering if Sweet Pea had beat her there. The door jingled as she pushed it open, and she was greeted with the quick smile of Pop Tate. 

“Hey there, Ms. Cooper. Can I get you your usual?” 

Betty smiled at the older man, cherishing his constancy. “That would be great. Thanks, Pop.”

She turned her head to take in the tables, looking for her friend, but was instead met with a pair of icy blue eyes trained on her. 

Her heart stuttered as Jughead Jones stared at her unabashedly. What was he doing here? Maybe he was meeting a customer? No. Betty scoffed at herself. Jughead wasn’t stupid, he would never conduct his  _ business  _ somewhere so public. 

It wasn’t until a smirk tugged at his lips that she was released from her internal dialogue, then promptly noticed there was someone who was sitting across from the beanie clad Serpent. Someone who looked an awful lot like Sweet Pea. 

She felt a wave of anger crash through her. What was Sweet Pea thinking? Why would he invite someone that he knew she couldn’t stand? Never mind that she had never actually verbalized her dislike of Jughead to him. He was her friend, shouldn’t he be able to tell?

She walked slowly over to them, taking a deep breath and plastering a patent Cooper smile on her face. 

“Hey, Sweet Pea,” she murmured as she approached, watching as a sheepish grin spread across her friend’s face. That little  _ shit.  _ He knew how Betty felt about Jughead and had invited him anyway. 

“Hey, Coop. Wanna sit?” She nodded, moving to sit beside Sweet Pea, stalling when Jughead slid over to the window, making room for her. Betty hesitated for a second, then rolled her eyes and took the open seat. She was here to talk to Sweet Pea, she reminded herself, something that would be hindered if she was sitting directly beside him. 

She sat gently, careful to keep a more-than-respectful distance between her and Jughead. All three of them sat in silence for a moment before Sweet Pea spoke up. 

“So, what’s up?” 

Betty stilled the quirk of her lips, a smile threatening to break through. After living with Alice for years, someone who specialized in backhanded compliments and concealed criticisms, she felt a deep appreciation for Sweet Pea’s straightforwardness. He didn’t drag out a conversation, nor did he try and hide his feelings behind flowery words and niceties. He spoke to her like she was a real person, not somebody who needed to be controlled or was a broken doll. 

Betty leaned back against the booth, trying to keep her features neutral. She knew that she had been the one to reach out to Sweet Pea, but after seeing that Jughead was in attendance, she had lost her desire to tell him about her awful day. The last thing she wanted was to give the Serpent more ammunition to use against her than he already had. 

“Oh, nothing,” she murmured, keeping her eyes trained on the table. She glanced up at Sweet Pea and sighed at the unconvinced look resting on his face, his eyebrow quirked. She looked down at her hands in her lap. “Today was just… hard.”

“Did Andrews give you a hard time?” he asked, his voice tight. She huffed out a laugh, letting her fingers twist around one another. Maybe she could tell him a little bit, without telling him everything. She hated the idea of anyone outside of Sweet Pea and Kevin knowing the full extent of the current drama she had been pulled into. She nodded slightly to herself, resolving to make some time to talk to Sweet Pea later in the week, when she could actually talk freely. 

“He probably would have, if he could track me down. I spent most of my day avoiding him and… well, you know.” She felt cowardly now, in her admission of avoidance. Her mother would call it weakness. Jughead probably thought she was spineless. She chanced a look at him out of the corner of her eye, but he gave away nothing, his eyes trained on the table. 

“Do you want me to  _ talk  _ to him?” he said darkly, his face black with anger. Betty bolted upright, her hands coming to slap against the table harder than she intended. Her mind conjured up images of Sweet Pea and a handful of Serpents, storming the halls of Riverdale High, tracking down Archie, and teaching him a so-called  _ lesson.  _ She wanted - no -  _ needed _ to keep this quiet for as long as possible. That meant keeping Sweet Pea away from Archie for as long as possible. She loved Sweet Pea and how supportive he was, but she knew that if she gave the word, he would rain down hellfire on whoever had spurned her, and she didn’t want to make a scene. 

“No, Sweet Pea. That’s really not necessary,” she urged, watching with relief as the boy settled back in his seat, the venom draining from his eyes. She let out a small sigh, satisfied that she had talked him down, at least for now. 

Pop brought their drinks, placing a strawberry milkshake in front of her, a chocolate shake in front of Sweet Pea, and a coffee in front of Jughead. She stared at the Serpent in horror. It was bordering on seven o’clock. How could he possibly think about drinking caffeine so late? She felt a blush sting her cheeks when he glanced at her, catching her eyes on him, and then casually winked at her. She directed her gaze back at the table, taking a shallow breath, her heart thumping erratically.  _ Calm down,  _ she scolded herself,  _ he’s just trying to get a rise out of you. _

“Anything else I can get you kids?” Betty jumped slightly in her seat and shook her head. She hadn’t eaten dinner, but she really wasn’t hungry. Besides, the shake would take up most of the calories she had left for the day. Sweet Pea also shook his head. 

“I’ll take a burger and fries, Pop. And a shot of whiskey,” Jughead ordered, smirking at the older man. Betty stared at him again, not understanding the familiarity between him and the dinner owner. 

Pop simply laughed. “Ask me again in a few months,” then walked back into the kitchen. 

There was an uncomfortable silence for a moment, Betty grabbing her milkshake and twirling the straw around in the creamy drink, before Sweet Pea spoke up, his voice a little forced.

“Jughead turns twenty-one in July. He’s been asking Pop to serve him liquor since he was, what? Sixteen?” He finished the question with a grin directed at Jughead, who simply smiled back. Betty watched him, examining the way his tongue poked out past his teeth, running over his bottom lip quickly in amusement. 

“At least,” he agreed, shaking his head and chuckling. 

“Hilarious,” she simpered, scowling at him. Although her scorn had nothing to do with the insinuation of law-breaking and everything to do with her lapse in focus, distracted by the path of his tongue across his lips. She shook her head, trying to rid herself of thoughts of what that tongue would feel like running along her own lips. She startled at the thought, jerking her gaze away from Jughead and forcing a grin on her face. A spindly tendril of panic snaked its way into her stomach. She didn’t want to dwell on where those thoughts came from, desperately trying to shove them down and out of sight. A dark chuckle from beside her brought her out of her panic, and she turned to look at Jughead again, his tongue tucked safely back in his mouth, an eyebrow raised haughtily at her. 

“Ahh yes. Perfect Miss Cooper over here would never  _ dream  _ of drinking underage, I’m sure.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, stomach tightening with indignation. He didn’t know anything about her, and here he was,  _ yet again,  _ making assumptions. She took a breath, ready to tell him  _ exactly  _ what she thought of him. “You know what -”

“So Betty are you excited for next fall?” Sweet Pea interrupted, his voice too high and too bright. Betty turned to focus on him across the booth. His smile was slightly strained, and she realized, too late, that he was desperately trying to keep the peace. Betty halted the barrage of insults that she had planned to hurl at the smug Serpent sitting beside her, shooting a confused look at Sweet Pea.

“What about next fall?” She watched as he quirked an eyebrow at her, seemingly waiting for her to catch up. 

“You know.. Yale?” he supplied after another moment of silence. 

Her cheeks blazed with the embarrassment of forgetting something as important as her future plans. “Oh...right. Yes, I’m very excited,” she answered, feeling the blush creep down her neck. She tried to ground herself, taking a deep breath. She couldn’t let Jughead keep getting to her, letting her face show every emotion so openly. She was just handing out grenades for people to toss back at her. Betty listened passively as Jughead said something, the conversation turning away from her for a moment. She wasn’t really paying attention, truthfully, opting to keep her eyes trained on the pink drink in front of her, watching the whipped cream slowly melt into the shake below it. 

“I’ll be right back,” Sweet Pea moved to stand, and Betty’s gaze jerked up to look at him. She was about to beg him to stay, to not leave her alone but he was too fast, walking to the back of the dinner, towards the washrooms. Betty helplessly watched him go, hesitant to be left alone with the man beside her. It was only quiet for a moment before his gravelly voice floated over to her. 

“So… Yale?”

“Yup,” she ground out, eyes on the table. She was intent on not embarrassing herself any further. Maybe if she seemed unfriendly enough, he would give up and let her sit in silence. 

“Smart and mean,” Jughead murmured, Betty’s gaze turning to him, her eyes blazing. He clicked his tongue at her, resting his cheek in his hand. “And early acceptance too. That’s -” 

Betty sighed, turning quickly in her seat to face him, steel in her eyes. 

“We don’t have to small talk just because Sweet Pea is gone, Jughead,” she bit out, pushing as much venom into her words as she could muster. 

He smiled at her, unphased by her rudeness. “How about big talk, then? What happened with the boyfriend?” She choked on air and tried to recover smoothly, without success. 

“Archie?” she blurted out before she could stop herself. 

Jughead simply shrugged, bringing his cup of coffee up to his mouth, “Sure.”

“Are you serious?” she asked, reclining away from him, exasperation heavy in her tone. In what universe did he think she would confide in him? Tell him about her life, or her struggles?

“As the plague,” he leveled her with a heavy look, the steel back in his gaze. There was something about it that made Betty almost believe him. Like he actually  _ wanted  _ to listen to her talk about her day. 

Instead, she threw her arms over her chest, turning away from him. 

“Have it your way. But talking to me does have it’s benefits. For starters, I don’t really care, so you don’t have to worry about me talking to anyone else about your issues. Then there’s the matter of us running in completely different circles, avoiding any tangled webs there. Lastly, I may just have some sage wisdom to offer.” 

She exhaled a short laugh, shaking her head at the table. She watched as Jughead cocked his head, raising an eyebrow with that smirk on his lips again. 

"You certainly think highly of yourself, don't you?” she snarked at him, a hint of a grin playing at the corner of her mouth. She waited, expecting him to have some snide rebuttal, but was instead met with a gaze that tried to pierce through her. Her breath caught in her throat as she tried to remember how to breathe. 

“So,” he repeats, “Yale.”

She considered him for a moment, taking in his words. Betty wasn’t one to share her life with those outside her inner circle, but that circle had recently gotten incredibly small. She knew he was right. He couldn’t possibly care about her problems, and they had no mutual friends. Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to unload some of her worries onto him. Jughead Jones was like an island out at sea. Solitary and confined. She could bury her secrets with him and no one would ever find out. 

“Yeah, Yale.” she conceded, picking up her milkshake and bringing it to her lips. She rolled her eyes at his smirk. “I’m just so sick of Riverdale. I want something bigger… something more,” she said with a sigh. 

He was quiet for a moment, but his gaze never left her. Just as she was about to start squirming under his watchful eyes, he dropped them back to the table, his voice soft in the din of the dinner. “‘The world only exists in your eyes. You can make it as big or as small as you want.’”

Her heart jumped into her throat, recognizing the words. She tried to cover her surprise by quirking an eyebrow at him, giving him an unimpressed look. 

“Of course you would quote Hemingway at me,” she said from behind her milkshake, scoffing. What was he trying to achieve? Was he teasing her based on what limited information he knew about her reading preferences?

“Greatest writer of a generation, minus the alcoholism,” the joke rolled off his tongue, but Betty could detect a hint of bitterness in his words. 

“Minus the alcoholism,” she repeated, taking in the man sitting across from her. He was… different from what she had initially expected. She had anticipated a thug, rough around the edges, the poster boy of the Southside Serpents her mother wrote scathing articles about in the Register. 

“And Andrews?” his words were quiet, his voice silky as it drifted to her. 

She looked back up at him, surprised by the lack of provocation behind his words. “Not worth wasting words on,” was all she gave him, not willing to divulge more than that. 

He exhaled sharply, it sounded almost like a laugh, “Noted.”

He was some of those things, but there was also another side to him, she was beginning to see. A softness that lingered around the edges, and it came out in his eyes, the way they pinned her down and held her captive. It came out when he spoke about literature, when he quoted famous authors at her. She shook her head lightly, trying to clear the thoughts from her mind. Her world was collapsing in on itself, and she was sitting in a booth in Pop’s mulling over the different personality traits of a known gang leader and drug dealer. Betty took a deep breath, seeing Sweet Pea headed back to their table. She smiled as he approached, secretly happy that she no longer had to be alone with Jughead. 

“Hey,” Sweet Pea’s voice was bright, like it always was. It was her favorite thing about him. “What are you guys talking about?”

Jughead answered before she could try to construct a convincing answer. “Hemingway.”

Sweet Pea scoffed in the back of his throat, “Nerds.”

She smirked as she looked at the table, avoiding Sweet Pea’s questioning eyes. 

Jughead Jones was an enigma, and she hated how he made her smile without thinking, but at least he had a sense of humor. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again so much for reading! I'm giving myself deadlines from now on, so my chapters get out in a timely manner! UPDATE 05/31.


	5. Or Fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dudes! I am so excited to share this chapter with you! Things get a little crazy, so buckle up. But we also get to see Betty have some fun, Sweet Pea be a great friend, and Jughead be less of an asshole! All the good things! I hope you enjoy!

**Wednesday**

Betty was pleasantly surprised when she peeked her head around the corner that morning. Archie had been waiting for her at her locker again the day before, but was missing from his usual spot that morning. Perhaps he had taken the hint and given up. She found herself hoping that she wouldn’t have to see him for a long time. She knew it was unlikely, Riverdale High wasn’t that big of a school, but she could dream. Also, there was a football game on Friday. 

She walked to her locker and opened it, taking out her books for her first class of the day. Betty adjusted the strap of her backpack, then pulled her locker door closed, jumping when she was met with the one face she didn’t want to see a mere six inches away from her.

“Jesus, Archie. What are you doing?” she exclaimed, her heart beating erratically in her chest. Betty tried to keep her face neutral, but the hint of a smile on Archie’s lips was about to send her into a tailspin. 

“You wouldn’t talk to me,” Archie whispered, his eyes trailing over her in a way that made her stomach twist. Betty fought the urge to run away, knowing that it would only escalate the situation. She needed to be clear with him, maybe that way she could avoid future altercations. 

“Did you ever think that there might be a reason you haven’t been able to get close to me?” she asked quietly, stepping back from him slightly. He was close enough for her to smell his cologne, and it was making her sick to think that the smell had lingered on Veronica’s skin, or maybe her sheets, at some point. 

“I just want to talk, Betts. I don’t like knowing you’re mad at me.” 

Red flashed before her eyes at the nickname, a pit of anger welling up inside her.

“ _Don’t_ call me Betts,” she snapped at him. She saw a flash of surprise in his eyes, and she took a deep breath, pushing her anger down. “And what do you propose we talk about? What could you possibly have to say to me?”

“I want you back.” he stated simply, “I miss you.” She scoffed, wondering how she had dated him for three years. He truly thought that all he had to do was come crawling back and say that he missed her and she would...what? Jump back into his open arms?

“Really? I find it hard to believe that you think of me at all,” she said sarcastically, sighing when he looked confused. “Veronica told me how long you’ve been sleeping together, Archie. I know this wasn’t just a one time mistake.” She watched as the hurt in his eyes hardened into something else she couldn’t pin down. It was a look that she had never seen before. 

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face.

Betty rushed on, capitalizing on his speechlessness, “What do you _want,_ Archie. Really? Because it certainly isn’t me.”

She was taken aback by the look of desperation on his face when he pulled his hand away, his eyes wide with grief. It made her heart tighten in her chest and she reminded herself of what he had done to her, afraid that if she didn’t she might just gather up the boy in front of her in her arms. Anything to make the sadness on his face dissipate. She anchored her arms to her sides, resisting the urge to comfort the one person she had always been there for. 

“We’ve been best friends since kindergarten. I don’t… I’ve never had to be without you.” His voice cracked on the last word, and Betty sucked in a shaky breath. _No,_ she reminded herself. _He is sad because of the mistake_ he _made. This is_ his _fault._ She clenched her jaw and steeled herself. He knew how empathetic she was. He was trying to manipulate her into forgiving him. 

“Well, I guess you should have thought about that before you stuck your dick into another girl,” she ground out, hating the way the words tasted as they left her mouth. They were bitter and harsh, so different from how she was used to speaking with him. Her heart cracked a little more as the words landed on Archie, regret and shame flaming onto his face. She couldn’t do this with him. Not now. She held her books under one arm, and moved to step past him so that she could head to her first class. 

Just as she was passing Archie, his hand shot out and grabbed her wrist tightly. His fingers were an iron clasp around the joint, her mind protesting at the use of force. 

“Betty, please,” he pleaded, his brows furrowed in frustration. She tried to tug her arm away but he was holding her too tightly. 

“Archie,” she gasped, looking down at his hand circling her wrist, “You’re hurting me.” Her voice came out harshly and louder than intended, a few students turning their heads to look at the star quarterback and cheer captain in the hall as they walked by. Betty tried again to pull her wrist from Archie’s grasp and he released her, raising his hands in surrender. He didn’t look ashamed or sad anymore. Instead, his eyes narrowed in what Betty could only guess was anger and resolve. 

“Fine, _Betts._ Have it your way.”

Betty watched as he spun and marched down the hall, her hand floating down to circle around where his fingers had been, her skin stinging. 

~*~

“Are you sure that no one knows, Kevin?” Betty glanced over her shoulder, checking to see if anyone was close enough to hear them. 

“Positive,” he reaffirmed, nodding. “I was listening at the water fountain today. So far everyone just thinks that you two are having a little lover’s quarrel.” 

She sighed out of relief, feeling some of the built-up tension release from her shoulders. “That’s something, at least.” She could tell that Kevin wanted to say something else, but she really didn’t have time. She couldn’t be late for practice. She needed to hold onto some semblance of appearances. She would need to hang out with him later. 

“Hey, I have to head to Vixen practice. I’ll talk to you later,” she said, wrapping him up in a quick hug. She took off down the hall, hearing his voice trail after her. 

“Have fun with the dragons.”

She tossed an unimpressed smile over her shoulder, correcting him “Vixens.”

“Gesundheit,” he answered, a cheeky grin on his face. 

~*~

Practice had been awful. Nevermind the fact that Veronica had been glaring daggers at her the whole time, the squad themselves seemed to be out of sync. Every routine was slightly off, ever move out of step. She had to wonder if it was because of her. Maybe the girls were picking up on the negative energy between her and Veronica. She needed to reign it in, and so did Veronica. 

Betty was the last to leave practice again, and she relished having the locker room all to herself. She got changed quickly and reached into her bag, fingers grabbing at the small bottle. Her heart clenched when she realized that there was only one pill left. How had she gone through all ten so quickly? Maybe some had spilled out in her backpack. She carefully started to remove items one by one, taking care to listen for the tell-tale clink of something small falling to the cement floor. 

When she reached the bottom and still found nothing, her heart began to hammer in her chest. Those pills were the only thing holding her together during the day. The steady hum of focus kept her mind off of everything that she didn’t want to think about. 

She shuddered to think where her head would be at without the Ritalin. Without overthinking too much, she grabbed her phone and tapped open the message stream with his name on it, only realizing now that he had put a little crown emoji beside his name. She rolled her eyes and keyed out a quick message. 

**Can we meet up?**

Betty clutched the phone tightly in her hands, waiting as her screen lit up with the bubbles that indicated an incoming response. 

**Be there in 10.**

She heaved a sigh of relief, shoving all her belongings back into her bag. She needed to catch a bus if she wanted to be on time. 

“Well, well, if it isn’t my favorite customer!” he greeted her, a smirk evident at the corner of his mouth. Betty’s eyes roved over him before she could stop herself, taking in his black leather jacket and dark jeans. Her heart thumped painfully, and her stomach tightened. Betty hated it. She narrowed her eyes and quashed the fluttering in her stomach. 

“Thanks,” she said snidely, hoping her piercing tone would keep him an arm’s length away. “Do you have them?” 

She had let him in too much on Monday, and she needed to keep her life as uncomplicated as possible. Becoming friends with her drug dealer was the definition of complicated. She had been counting on him to seem put off at her change in demeanor. What she wasn’t expecting was for him to glare at her, his eyes hard and cold as steel, pinning her to where she stood. 

He pulled a bottle from his pocket, thrusting his hand out towards her. The pills clattered in the quiet alley and she reached out to grab it tightly in her palm, passing him the money from her pocket.

She always made sure she had cash on her for this exact reason. She couldn’t count how many times she had needed to meet up with Malachai, then realized that she had to run to the bank first. It was easier to just have cash with her at all times. She shoved the bottle into her backpack, her nerves jumping at the fact that the sun was setting behind her. She didn’t relish the idea of being on the Southside at night. She was about to turn around and walk away, eager to leave Jughead in the alley, when his voice floated across the small distance between them, chilling her to the bone. 

“Not that it’s any of my business, but Malachai was pretty surprised to hear that you needed more. He seemed to be under the impression that your previous purchase would last you at least three weeks, not six days.” Betty’s face blanched, her stomach dropping down to her toes. What was she supposed to tell him? That she had been taking the Ritalin more often than normal? That she was using them to keep her focus off Archie? She scoffed and shook her head, remembering his words from Pop’s. 

_“I don’t really care, so you don’t have to worry about me talking to anyone else about your issues.”_ Why was she worrying? She didn’t owe him an explanation. They weren’t friends. This was a transaction. That was all it was. 

“You’re right, it’s not any of your business,” she uttered, keeping her voice low. She flicked her ponytail over her shoulder and began to walk again. 

“I just wanted to know if I should be increasing your order size?” his voice trailing after her. “Or maybe you’re flushing them so we can see each other more often,” he suggested. Betty’s feet screeched to a halt, and she was spinning and stomping back towards him before she even knew what she was doing. 

“What?” she glared at him, her jaw clenched painfully. 

“You know, you have my number. If you wanted to see me, you don’t have to waste so much money to do so,” his voice was like silk and she hated it. How could he stand there, spouting such obvious _bullshit_ and remain so calm? She wasn’t going to play along. She refused to play his games. 

“I’m not sure what you don’t understand about this transaction, but we are _not_ friends. You have a product. I buy the product. We go our separate ways. That’s it.” Her chest huffed with exertion, rage coursing through her veins. She didn’t realize until that moment just how close she was to him. Every time she sucked in a breath, her chest brushed his lightly. 

Her face was mere inches away from his, and she found her palm itching to slap the smirk off his face. She growled low in her throat, angry at herself for playing into his hand, despite the fact that she had distinctly decided not to. He had obviously wanted to get a rise out of her, and he had succeeded. She spun on her heel, determined to actually walk away this time. Her skin prickled at the soft laughter that floated down the alley walls after her, his voice a whisper in the growing darkness. 

“See you around, Betty.”

 _I fucking doubt it,_ she cursed to herself. The next time she needed something from the Ghoulies, she would get Malachai. At least she could handle Malachai. Jughead didn’t play by the rules, and she couldn’t handle any more curveballs in her life. 

**Friday**

It hadn’t been easy, but Betty had managed to get through Thursday and Friday without incident. She hadn’t bumped into Archie or Veronica, mostly achieved by the grace of Kevin. The boy had offered to gather her books before every class, and she couldn’t have been more grateful. 

She made a reminder to find a way to thank him somehow. Maybe tickets to Broadway, she thought. She knew how big of a theatre buff he was and was certain it would be something he would appreciate. 

All she had to do was get through the Bulldogs football game and then she was free for two days. No more running or hiding from Archie and Veronica. She could tutor Sweet Pea and hide in her room, taking solace in the silence. 

She was walking from the Blue & Gold office, intent on heading to the gym, when she saw a flash of red ahead of her in the hall. Before she even knew what she was doing, Betty turned to duck behind a trophy case, her heart racing in her chest. She couldn’t explain the panic that was rising in her throat, blocking off her ability to breathe regularly. 

Why did just the sight of Archie fill her with anxiety? Ever time she saw him it was such a visceral reaction. She couldn’t breathe, her vision clouded, her mind blurred. She had never been afraid of Archie Andrews a day in her life. It made no sense to her. 

Why, now that they were broken up, were her instincts screaming at her to stay far away from him? 

The game went by in a blur that she didn’t really see. Despite the fact that she had hastily swallowed another pill before heading out onto the field, she had been unable to really focus on the game. Instead, she spent most of the game obsessively trying to chronologically catalog every time Archie had seemed ‘off’ when he was with her, starting from the previous July 4th to the present. 

That fact that she wasn’t really paying attention became apparent when the score clock ran out, and the students of Riverdale High flooded the field. Betty finally brought her gaze back to the field long enough to see a flash of black hair run across the field, jumping into the arms of one Archie Andrews. Betty watched in horror as her former best friend wrapped her arms around the quarterback’s neck, then kissed him lewdly. 

It was almost as if the entire student body gasped collectively. Everything seemed to quiet down to an almost impossible level of silence, then it was broken by several Bulldogs clapping Archie on the back. Betty watched as they congratulated Archie on the win, and Betty was intelligent enough to know that the boys weren’t talking about football. It didn’t take long for the gazes of those around her to drift to her, and for the whispers and speculations to become deafening. 

The muted voices were more than she could bear, she felt like everyone was looking at her. She had no way of knowing what people were going to say, but she knew that it would construct a less than kind image of her. She wasn’t an idiot. She knew how high school politics worked. It was never the boys who came out looking bad. She had learned that lesson from her sister. 

Panic rose in her stomach and before she could calm herself, Betty ran for the sidelines, her feet carrying her quicker than she thought possible. She vaguely thought she heard someone calling out after, probably Cheryl, but she ignored whoever it was. She just wanted to get out of there. 

Betty slammed the doors to the dressing room open, grabbing her bag and backpack and darted from the room as quickly as her feet could carry her. She didn’t want anyone to see her like this, humiliated by the two people who were supposed to care about her the most. 

She ran into the hall, skidding around a corner. The next time she looked up she was in front of the Blue & Gold office. Before she could stop herself, she ripped open the door and slammed it shut behind her, pressing her back against the wood. 

Finally, she allowed the tears that she had been holding back to fall, the weight of them dragging her to the floor. She wasn’t sure how long she sat like that, crouched against the oak door, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees. 

Only when her legs started to burn from fatigue did she rise to stand again. She pulled out her cell phone from her bag and let her fingers deftly dial the first number that came to her. Her voice was ragged in the silence of the empty room, tears clogging her throat as she leaned against the door, “Sweet Pea? Can you come get me?”

“Betty?” his voice sounded far away, “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

She could hear the panic in his voice, and her stomach twisted with the guilt of knowing she had worried him. Just one more person that she had inconvenienced. 

“I’m fine,” she mumbled, wiping her eyes dry with the back of her hand. “Really, I’m okay,” she added, knowing he was about to disagree with her. The line was silent for a moment, then his voice came through calmly. 

“Where are you? I’m on my way.” 

She let out a sigh of relief. The last thing she wanted to do was walk home. “I’m at Riverdale High.” 

“Okay, Betty. I’ll be there in five.” 

Betty again found herself so grateful for the Serpent’s friendship. She was about to say goodbye when something niggled in the back of her mind. “Sweet Pea?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you text me when you get here?” She knew she was being ridiculous, but something in her gut was screaming at her to not be left alone, to stay hidden until help came. 

“Absolutely.”

“Thanks,” she sighed, feeling some of the anxiety that was holding her airways hostage release. 

“I’ll see you soon.” 

Betty brought her phone down as the call ended, walking stiffly over to the couch that was tucked away in the corner. She began pulling her street clothes from her Vixen’s bag. She only had to wait five minutes. Then help would be there. 

**I’m here. South parking lot.**

Betty rose from the couch, grabbing her bag and backpack, and walked to the door. She slipped her backpack over her shoulders, and slung the Vixen bag over the front of her chest. Betty opened the door just enough to stick her head out, looking up and down the hall before sneaking out into the emptiness. Her chest ached with a tightness that she couldn’t explain. The only time she had ever felt like that before was when she was in middle school and had gone camping with her dad. 

They had been hiking and at one point on the trail her chest had tightened painfully, making it difficult to breathe. At the time she thought that it was simply because the hike was harder than she initially had thought it was. Later that night, when they had gotten back to their campsite, Alice had called, panicked and asking if they were okay. She had told them that there had been a cougar sighting earlier that morning. When her father had asked where the cougar had been seen, Alice had told them that it was the exact trial they had hiked, the sighting called in only an hour after they had been on the trail. Betty had been terrified to realize that they had probably walked right past the predator. 

The aching from her chest that day felt the exact same as what was clutching at her lungs now. As if her body was trying to tell her that there was danger close by, that she needed to be ready to fight or flee. 

She raced through the halls as quickly as she could, every moment that she spent alone in the dark pushing the rising panic higher into her throat. 

Betty burst through the South doors and let out a sigh of relief at the sight of Sweet Pea’s truck. She had never been happier to see the rusted out vehicle as she had been right then. Betty tried to tell herself that she could breathe now, that help was there and only a hundred feet away. Tried to tell her heart that it could start beating normally again. 

She glanced around one more time before setting off down the steps, her legs carrying her quickly. She was about halfway to the truck when she heard him. 

“Betty,” the voice sent shivers down her spine. It was dark and ominous and made her throat close off immediately. She didn’t stop, didn’t slow. Betty kept walking, keeping her eyes trained on Sweet Pea’s truck. 

“ _Hey,”_ the voice shouted, a hand reaching out and grabbing the strap of her bag, “I’m trying to talk to you.” 

Her heart jumped into her throat, panic threatening to choke her. She grabbed the front of the bag and threw it off, but as soon as she was free from Archie’s grip on her bag, his other hand shot out to grab her wrist. 

“I don’t want to talk to you, Archie,” she cried, attempting to wrench her hand out of his iron grip. 

He pulled her closer, dropping her bag on the ground, his breath heating her skin. “You aren’t going anywhere with those lowlifes,” he growled, his voice low. 

The quiet night air burst with her harsh laugh, bordering on manic, “You don’t get to tell me who I can spend time with, Archie. You aren’t my boyfriend anymore.”

“You fucking think so?” He twisted her wrist painfully and before she could cry out in pain again, Betty heard two truck doors slam. In the next moment, there was a big hand wrapped around the fingers on her wrist, prying them away from her. 

She looked back and took in the sight of Sweet Pea, his hand wrapping gently around the wrist that had just been in Archie’s grasp, then turned forward to see Jughead standing directly in front of her, cutting off her view of Archie. His hands were in his pockets, hip cocked, as if he were bored by the entire scene. 

“Cooper, lets go,” Sweet Pea’s voice rang out in the dead air, breaking Betty from her observations. Sweet Pea began leading her back to his truck when Archie began hurling expletives at them. 

“Where the fuck do you think you’re taking her? Let go of her _now!_ I’ll call the cops, I’ll -”

“You think you’re tough, manhandling a girl literally half your size?” Jughead growled, cutting off the other boy. “Talk about toxic masculinity,” Jughead’s words dripped with sarcasm, his voice grinding like gravel. Betty wanted to yell at him, to tell him not to antagonize the redhead opposite of him. She didn’t want anyone to get hurt. 

“That was hardly manhandling, but I think I could fuck up your shit if I wanted to,” Archie growled, his body coiling tightly. 

Betty felt her stomach twisting in fear. “Archie, stop!” she called out, her voice shrill. 

Before Betty could rush back in to stop them, Archie was taking a swing at Jughead. Betty knew where this was going. She had seen Archie get into a fight once with a football player from Greendale, had seen the kind of damage a few well-placed blows could do. Her heart clenched painfully as she watched helplessly, sure that she was about to see Jughead laying on the ground, bloodied, in just a few moments. 

That wasn’t what she witnessed, though. 

Instead, she watched, mesmerized, as Jughead ducked under Archie’s arm with surprising grace and dexterity, twisting to stand behind the quarterback. Archie stumbled forward as a result of his thrown fist not finding purchase on its intended target, his balance off-center. In the blink of an eye, Jughead was lifting one foot and ever-so-gently tapping on the back of Archie’s planted leg. Betty was astounded when Archie’s leg gave out under the minor pressure, his knees crashing to the pavement painfully, if the grimace on his face was anything to go by. 

Sweet Pea was tugging her back to the truck and she stared as Jughead stepped over Archie’s legs and headed towards them. His face was calm, not a hint of malice to be found. She let Sweet Pea coax her back to the truck, utterly perplexed by what she had just witnessed. Archie was on the ground and Jughead hadn’t even thrown a punch. He didn’t strike her as a fighting type, but she reminded herself that she knew next to nothing about him, and there was obviously more than met the eye when it came to Jughead Jones. 

She was standing beside the open passenger door, realizing only then that the truck was too tall for her to get into on her own easily. Before she could ask, Jughead was extending a hand, offering to help her in. She grabbed the offered appendage, feeling a blush creep up her neck at the contact. She was just scooching across the bench seat, attempting to take off her backpack at the same time, intent on making room for Jughead to get in, when Archie’s voice called out from behind Jughead. 

“You might want to find a better candidate to fill the role of Serpent Slut. She doesn’t fucking put out anyway.” Archie’s words hit her like bullets, and she found herself gasping, trying to catch her breath. 

Why was he being so awful? What had she done to him? Was this to get back at her for not forgiving him? Or was this jealousy? She had known Archie her whole life, and never once had she known him to be vindictive or mean just because he could. He was kind and sweet, and yes, sometimes he was misguided, but he was never this… _malicious._

In a flash, Jughead’s body disappeared from the doorframe, her bag that he had been about to hand her - she hadn’t even realized he had picked it up - now sitting abandoned on the seat. 

His voice ripped through the night. If Betty thought that Archie’s tone had been spiteful, then Jughead’s was nothing short of wrathful. “What the fuck did you say?”

Jughead looked like the definition of a vengeful God, she thought. It was almost like the air around him was bending and shifting to accommodate his rage. Every step was purposeful, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. She saw his shoulders coil tightly, as if he were preparing to strike. Then, a voice cried out into the quiet air. 

“Jug! Leave it!” Betty watched with morbid curiosity as the Serpent King himself stilled at the sound of Sweet Pea’s voice. Why? Why would Jughead take orders from someone who was, technically, beneath him in terms of Serpent hierarchy? “He’s not worth it, Jug.” 

Jughead seemed to contemplate Sweet Pea’s words, his gaze trained on Archie who was only then starting to pull himself to his feet. 

“Stay away from her, Andrews,” Jughead snarled, then twisted around to head back to the truck. His face was no longer passive, but dark and threatening. Betty watched, frozen, as Jughead stalked towards her. She sat up straight, grabbing her bag off the seat beside her and placed it in her lap, her backpack beside her feet already, trying to make room for him. 

He leaped into the truck easily, and slammed the door behind him. “Go, Pea.” 

For a moment, Sweet Pea just stared at him, an indecipherable look on his face. Betty wondered if they were having some kind of unspoken argument, both of their faces twisted in anger. 

“Sweet Pea, fucking _move,”_ he growled, his tone venomous. 

Betty sat between the two, the air practically vibrating with their anger, as Sweet Pea slammed the clutch in, grabbing the gear shift. Betty squeaked at the action. She hadn’t realized until that moment that sitting in the middle seat put her in the precarious position of having said gear shift between her knees. She moved before thinking, swinging her leg closest to Sweet Pea around to the opposite side, unintentionally pressing herself up against Jughead’s side. 

“Are you okay?” Jughead’s voice was soft now, almost directly above her ear. His body was leaning forward, and he was trying to catch her eye. She hoped she was imagining his breath on her neck, and brushed off the chills that ran down her spine at the thought. 

"Yeah," she murmured, embarrassment blazing through her. 

"Are you sure?" He asked again, his voice vibrating with barely contained concern. 

"I'm okay, Jughead," she reassured, holding back the urge to roll her eyes. He needed to stop looking at her like that. It made every nerve ending in her body writhe and twitch. 

He leaned back against his seat, his body once again leaning against her. She felt the heat of him like a burn everywhere they touched, from shoulder to knee. 

Sweet Pea pulled out of the parking lot and Betty resisted the urge to look over her shoulder. A part of her wanted to see if Archie was still standing there, watching her leave, but another part of her was terrified that if she looked and he _wasn’t_ there she might crack and crumble right before the two Serpent’s eyes. 

She kept her eyes trained on the windshield. 

“You can take me home,” she murmured after they had made it a few blocks. She wasn’t sure why she had felt the need to verbalize that, it wasn’t like Sweet Pea would take her anywhere else. 

“Is Alice home tonight?” was Sweet Pea’s answer, his voice soft and almost drowned out by the roar of the engine. 

She nodded, not wanting to think about spending the evening with her mother. If she was lucky, she would be able to sneak up to her room with little conversation between them, and hopefully just hide out until Monday. She wondered if this was what the rest of the school year was going to look like for her. Hiding from Archie and Veronica during the week, and hiding from her mother on weekends. 

A soft nudge from Sweet Pea pulled Betty from her thoughts. “Cooper, do you _want_ to go home?”

She exhaled a laugh, although there was no joy behind it. “Not at all,” she admitted. Sometimes the Cooper residence felt more like a penitentiary, with her being the primary prisoner, her life on constant lockdown. 

“Do you want to come to the Wyrm with us?” Betty jerked her head to look at Sweet Pea, seeing a small smile beginning in the corner of his mouth. “It’s karaoke night, so you’ll get to see some of the Southside’s finest talent.”

“Am I even allowed to be there if I’m not a Serpent?” she asked, doubting that the answer would be yes. It was a well-known fact that the Whyte Wyrm had pretty strict exclusivity rules. 

“I can assure you that no one is going to question it when they see you with me,” Jughead spoke from above her, his tone resolute. 

She thought about it for a moment. She didn’t have a lot of options to choose from. Go home and try to avoid Alice, something that she already knew was going to be impossible, or go to theWyrm and delay the inevitable for one evening. Her knee bounced and she put her hands on it, trying to hold it down. 

“Alright,” she agreed, stifling the blush that was burning at the tips of her ears. “I guess I can come out, just for a little bit.” 

Sweet Pea crowed with excitement beside her, “That’s my girl! We are going to have _so_ much fun.” 

Betty smiled at him, feeling her spirits lighten just the tiniest bit. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and began sending texts. She needed to establish an alibi if she was going to break the rules. 

**Cheryl, can you cover for me if my mom asks if I’m there?**

She watched as Cheryl began typing, waiting for her cousin’s response. Hopefully, Cheryl was in a charitable mood and wouldn’t ask too many questions. 

**Sure, cousin. Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.**

Betty smiled and sent back a quick thanks. She opened her messages with her mother next, taking a deep breath before she began texting. 

**Hey Mom, I’m going to Cheryl’s to watch a movie.**

Betty anticipated her mother to put up a fight, or ask follow up questions, so she was completely taken aback by her mother’s short response. 

**Fine. Home by midnight.**

Betty smiled widely, wondering if her luck might be turning around. Her mother was jumping down her throat. That had to be a good sign, didn’t it?

~*~

They pulled up to the bar and the full implications of what Betty was doing finally caught up to her. She was at the Whyte Wyrm, at night, with the leader of the Southside Serpents. If only her mother knew where she was. She would have an absolute heart attack. 

Betty scooted to the edge of the bench seat, debating on whether to bring her backpack and Vixen bag in when Jughead spoke. 

“Leave it all here, we can grab it when you’re ready to go home.” She looked up at him, only noticing then that when he stood beside the truck with her on the seat, they were nearly the same height. It was a strange feeling, being able to look into his eyes without craning her neck. 

She nodded without speaking, her throat suddenly dry, and shifted to get out of the truck. Jughead surprised her again by offering his hand to help her down, but she simply let herself fall from the seat, bending her knees slightly as she landed. She wasn’t a helpless damsel in distress, despite the fact that he had quite literally just saved her from a horrific beast. 

Jughead smirked and turned, starting walking to the bar, Sweet Pea already well ahead of them. They had only moved a few feet when Jughead looked over his shoulder at her, his brow furrowed. “When we get inside, stay right beside me. No wandering.” His voice was firm and dominant, like he was used to giving orders. She was about to tell him exactly where he could shove his orders, but he suddenly turned to fully face her. 

She balked at the look on his face, all the earlier concern gone, replaced with a severity that she couldn’t recall ever seeing on his face. “Alright?” he demanded. He didn’t leave much room for argument. Betty had a feeling that if she didn’t agree, he would probably turn her right back around and take her home.

“Alright,” she agreed, disliking how small her voice sounded in the quiet evening air. 

He nodded curtly and spun on his heel, taking off up the stairs, stopping to hold the door open for her. 

Betty walked into the bar, struck immediately by the juxtaposition from the last time she had been there. The bar was packed with men and women donning leather jackets, neon’s flashing from every corner. There was a stage off to the side that was lit up, something she had missed during her last visit, although she wasn’t sure _how_ she had missed it. 

There was what was obviously a karaoke machine set up in the corner and Betty looked around at the patrons that were sitting around the bar. None of the men or women she saw looked like the kind to get up on the stage and give a soulful performance. 

Betty followed behind Jughead, watching closely as he was greeted by Serpents while they walked through the bar. Plenty of people stopped him, slapping his shoulders, embracing him and speaking boisterously. What Betty noticed the most was how every time a set of eyes drifted to her, Jughead would slightly shift so that she was behind him, blocked from view. 

She stood like that for a few more moments before a hand brushed her arm. She jerked abruptly, fear coursing through her before she looked up and saw that the hand was attached to Sweet Pea. She willed the spike of anxiety to fizzle out. She wasn’t in danger. 

“Come on, Cooper. You can come sit with us,” he waggled his eyebrows at her, tugging lightly on her arm. Betty couldn’t stop the giggle that bubbled in her chest, following him out from under the watchful eye of Jughead. She didn’t make it two feet before the Serpent in question shouted at them.

“Pea, she’s supposed to stay beside me,” Jughead shouted over the din, his exasperation at the boy evident in his voice. Another laugh escaped her when Sweet Pea waved a hand at Jughead, dismissing the older man.

Sweet Pea led her to the same booth she had sat in just the week before and stopped at the edge of the table. “Hey fuckers, you guys remember Betty,” he didn’t phrase it as a question, but as a statement. 

Betty looked around the table and saw all the same faces from Sweetwater River. She waved her hand meekly as the Serpents all looked at her. She tried to remember their names. The girl with the pink hair was Toni. The severe-looking boy’s name was Joaquin, she was pretty sure. That left Fangs, as if she could forget a name like that. 

“What’s a Northside Princess doing here, SP?” Betty raised her eyebrows at Toni’s words, her tone accusatory. It was fairly clear exactly what the girl had meant. _What is she doing at_ our _bar? She doesn’t belong here._

Betty felt her face flush, knowing that Toni wasn’t really wrong. Betty didn’t belong there. 

“Move over, Toni. And don’t be such a bitch,” Sweet Pea snapped, glaring at the pink-haired girl. Betty watched with a muted sense of satisfaction as Toni moved deeper into the booth, making room for her and Sweet Pea. Sweet Pea motioned for Betty to slide in first, then he sat on the outside edge beside her. 

Betty sat there for a moment, her knee bouncing nervously under the table. No one was talking, and she knew that her presence had interrupted the natural flow on their conversation. She could feel her nails curling in on her palms when Fangs spoke up loudly across from her. 

“I think the new girl needs to Ride the Bus,” he shouted, a gleam of mischief in his eyes. Betty cocked her head at the phrase, unsure what he meant by it. Did he want her to leave? Was he making fun of her?

“Now _that_ ,” Sweet Pea pointed at the boy aggressively, “is the best idea you’ve ever had.” Then he was gone, up and out of the booth and disappearing into the crowd. Betty looked up at the smiles that were growing on the other’s faces, and wondered what exactly she had gotten herself into. 

~*~

She was _amazing_ at riding the bus. It wasn’t a thinly veiled hint for her to go home, as it had turned out, but a drinking game. Sweet Pea had returned to the table with a tray of drinks called Vodka Slimes and a pack of cards, setting them down with gusto. 

The game itself wasn’t too difficult, as most of the outcome was completely dependent on luck. Ten cards were laid out flat on the table in a pyramid and the person who was _riding the bus_ had to start at the bottom and choose one card. If the card was numbered, the player was safe. If it was a face card, the player had to take a shot. Then it was onto the next row. The amount of shots you had to take in the event of a face card increased with each row, which meant if you had rotten luck - like Fangs apparently did - the rider may have to take up to ten shots in one round. 

Betty had been pretty lucky thus far, only ever getting up to three shots in one round, but the drinks were strong and she was on her fifth round now. The bar was pleasantly warm and she couldn’t tell if it was because of the alcohol or Sweet Pea’s arm pressed against her as he pointed to cards for Toni to flip over for her. 

She was on a roll that round. She hadn’t had to take a single shot yet, and it was down to the last card. She glanced around the room, looking for Jughead and not finding him again. He still hadn’t come to their table, and she was beginning to think that he was avoiding them completely. The bar wasn’t that big, surely the fearless Serpent King wasn’t hiding from her?

Sweet Pea nudged her gently, breaking her from her search. She leaned forward and took one finger, tapping the top card primly. She held her breath and Toni grabbed the card, drawing out the act of flipping it over. The girl had steadily become less antagonistic as they played, and as the alcohol took effect. 

Toni flipped the card and slammed it on the table. Betty shot to stand awkwardly in the booth, throwing her hands over her head in victory when she saw the three of spades. 

“Yes!” she shouted as Sweet Pea and Fangs began yelling as well. Toni let out a solitary whoop as Joaquinn banged on the table, all of them ignoring the looks they garnered from the other patrons near them. Betty laughed as the man up on stage singing faltered, momentarily distracted by her table’s outburst. Betty grabbed her drink and drained it, loving the way the drink burned with vodka and citrus. 

“I guess you aren’t as against underage drinking as we once thought,” came a voice from beside their table. Betty looked over quickly, her head sloshing at the movement. Jughead was standing at the edge of their table, smirking at her. That smirk. She wanted to wipe it off his face. 

“I told you I knew how to be fun,” she simpered, grinning at him, “You should try it sometime.”

There was a chorus of ooh’s around the table and she watched as Jughead laughed shortly, bringing a hand up to rub at the back of his neck. Her grin widened, elated to know that she had bested him, if only this one time. She was about to invite him to play a round when he turned to face Sweet Pea. 

“Pea, why don’t we get everyone another round?” Betty watched curiously. The way Jughead had spoken hadn’t left much room for argument, and Sweet Pea seemed to know that. 

“You got it, boss,” Sweet Pea said, standing from the booth. Both of them melted into the crowd and Betty sat back down, watching absently as Toni shuffled the deck and started laying down cards for Fangs turn. 

Once the cards were dealt, Toni leaned back against the seat, letting Joaquinn take over for her. 

“So how long have you and Cheryl been together?” Betty asked quietly, the liquor humming deliciously under her skin. 

“I think we both know that if Cheryl wanted you to know, she would have told you,” was Toni’s answer, her voice once again hard with an edge to it. 

Betty couldn’t stop herself from giggling, thinking about her overly dramatic cousin. It was entirely possible that Cheryl hadn’t told Betty about Toni simply because she was waiting for the perfect moment to dramatically reveal the information. She shared this thought with Toni and was delighted to see the Serpent’s lips curl up into a smile. 

“You have me there. That would be a very _Cheryl_ thing to do.” Betty laughed again and nodded in agreement, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. Her laughter was only bolstered by the string of curses that was leaving Fangs mouth as he hit his third face card in a row. Betty gasped, cutting off her laughter, as her bladder squeezed painfully. 

She leaned over to Toni and whispered in her ear, “I have to pee,” she knew her words were slurred and clumsy, but she really couldn’t bring herself to care. “Where is the bathroom?”

Toni chuckled beside her and pointed at a hallway that was just off the side of the bar. “Down that hallway, second door on the left.” 

Betty nodded, hopping down from the bench. She curved her way through the tables, ignoring the looks that were being directed at her. 

“Down the hall...second on the left,” she muttered to herself, trying to remember what Toni had said, “okay we are down the hall,” she paused to lean against the wall and giggle to herself, “second on the left...second on the…” She forgot about what she was looking for at that moment. There was a door on the right side of the hallway, the door slightly ajar. The voices that were leaking out of the gap sounded angry and… familiar. 

She crept over to the door and peered inside, seeing Jughead and Sweet Pea standing opposite each other, their faces twisted in anger. She listened quietly as they began speaking again. 

“Jesus Christ, Jughead. I fucking know, but what the hell were you thinking?” Sweet Pea demanded. Betty watched as Jughead yanked off his beanie, and she did her best to hold in her gasp. She had never seen him without the hat, and she never would've guessed at the sheer _amount_ of hair that lay beneath. Jughead ran a hand raggedly through his black locks, scoffing. 

“Did you hear what he said about her?” His voice was rough with emotion and Betty wondered who they were arguing about. 

“Yes, I fucking heard him. But that last thing you need is to be fighting, _especially_ with fucking minors. Do you even remember what Keller said to you after last time?” Betty tried to consider the words, but her mind felt like a peach. Fuzzy. 

“Yea, Pea, I fucking remember, I just…” 

Betty jumped as a hand shot past her, grabbing the door handle to close the door quietly, cutting off the rest of the conversation. She straightened to stand and found herself looking up at a man who could rival Jughead in height, but was probably twice the width of him. He had a long, scraggly beard and a couple face tattoos that were more than enough to terrify her. She stood completely still as a twisted smile curved on the man’s mouth, leaning down to look into her eyes. His breath was hot on her face and foul-smelling, like moldy beer mixed with cigarettes. “Serpent’s don’t take kindly to being eavesdropped on. I suggest you mind your own business and move along.” 

Betty nodded vehemently and took off down the hallway, opening the second door on the left to find the women’s washroom. She ran to the sink and grasped it firmly in her hands, willing herself to calm down. She needed to pee and get back to the table, where she was safe. _Where Jughead was,_ she reminded herself, then just as quickly pushed the thought away. 

She finished her business and washed her hands, avoiding looking in the mirror. She was sure she looked terrible, but with no purse and therefore no backup makeup, there was no sense in lamenting it. 

She opened the door to the hallway and peeked out, relieved to see that the man who had scared her had moved on to somewhere else. She walked down the hallway quickly and headed back to the table. She saw that Sweet Pea and Jughead were already there, Sweet Pea sitting in the booth and Jughead standing at the edge of the table again. 

Jughead was moving his hands about wildly, his face contorted in what looked like concern. Toni was speaking as well, a scowl furrowed her brows. _She shouldn’t do that,_ Betty thought, _she’ll get wrinkles._ Betty winced at her thoughts, hearing them in her mother’s telltale voice instead of her own. She pushed all thoughts of her mother and wrinkles away, not wanting to dwell on either. 

She was almost back to the table when Jughead spotted her and Betty saw the worry melt off his face. He looked almost happy for a moment, but she blinked and then he was back to indifference. Betty walked up to the table and climbed into the booth beside Sweet Pea, grinning as he put his arm around her shoulder. Jughead pulled up a chair to sit at the end of the table, weakly returning the smile that she aimed at him. 

She noticed that Jughead’s jaw was clenched tightly and she wondered if the two friends hadn’t resolved their fight. All thoughts of fighting and arguments faded thought as Fangs approached the table with another tray of drinks. She smiled as one was put in front of her, along with the slap of cards. 

“Alright, Cooper. Show us all how it’s done.”

~*~

The world was spinning and she knew that she was falling, that a sudden impact with the floor was imminent. She squeezed her eyes shut and waited for her body to connect with the hardwood, but it didn’t come. Her body stalled against something solid, but with a little give. 

She absently heard a faded grunt, but paid it no mind. She opened her eyes when she heard cheers coming from the table that she just just been sitting at. Sweet Pea was standing up in the booth, his arms raised. Toni and Fangs were both laughing hard, clutching their middles. Joaquinn was simply smirking at her. She didn’t really understand what their reactions were aimed at, until a voice spoke, whispering in her ear. 

“I think it might be time to go home.”

“I think you’re right,” she sighed, clutching her eyes shut in an attempt to stop the spinning. 

Her feet were placed on the ground and she grabbed the table to steady herself, only opening her eyes once the urge to vomit passed. 

“That must have almost choked you on the way out,” Jughead smiled down at her, an eyebrow raised. 

“Hilarious, Jones,” she snarked, bringing a hand up to clutch at her throbbing head. She must have fallen out of the booth, she deduced. But Jughead had grabbed her before she had hit the floor. Still, the sudden movement had caused her head to explode in pain. “Where’s the nearest bus stop?” she asked, looking around for her things. She remembered that her bags were in Sweet Pea’s truck. 

“What?” Jughead responded, scoffing at her. 

“The bus stop. Where is it?” she asked again, her words slurred and mumbled. 

“Now who’s the hilarious one? You aren’t taking the bus. I’ll drive you home.” Betty shook her head, scowling. She wasn’t getting a ride home from Jughead. She didn’t even _like_ Jughead. 

“Awe, Betty, you wound me,” Jughead drawled sarcastically as Betty realized in horror that she had spoken out loud. She needed to get a handle on herself. 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” she reassured, feeling her cheeks heat up with a blush, “I just meant -”

“Just…” he interrupted her, holding a hand up to his forehead. Betty saw his jaw clench tightly, “stop being so stubborn. I’m taking you home.” He turned and walked towards the door and she couldn’t be sure but she was convinced that she heard the word _difficult_ mumbled under his breath as he opened the oak door. She followed close behind them, tossing a wave over her shoulder as the Serpent’s at the table bid her goodnight. 

“Wait” she gasped, the cold night air shocking her, “Are you safe to drive or…” she let her words trail off as she focused on making it down the stairs, brushing aside Jughead’s outstretched hand. 

“I don’t drink,” he answered simply, walking ahead of her. 

She followed him to the truck and stood back as he opened her door. She stumbled to it, tripping over a rock and then grabbed the door to steady herself. Jughead’s hand shot out to grab her waist, and her skin burned where he touched her. 

She pulled away from his grip, turning her gaze to the seat ahead of her. Dread filled her. If she couldn’t get into the truck sober, how she could possibly manage it in her current state. 

Almost as if he had read her mind, Jughead stepped up behind her, turning her to face him. 

“Here,” was all he said before he placed both his hands on her hips. She squeaked when he lifted her as if she weighed nothing, setting her on the bench seat. She tried to tamp down the blush that was creeping up her chest, swiveling her body to face forward in the seat. She chanced a glance at him as he closed the door and could have sworn she saw a small smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. She shook herself and the door shut, reaching behind her to put on her seatbelt. 

The truck dipped and Jughead got in the driver’s seat, the door shutting him in. Then it was just the two of them, alone in the small truck cab. Betty felt like she was suffocating. Of course, she had been close to him before, but there was something so confining about being locked in a metal cube with no way out. She could smell cigarettes she had never seen him smoke clinging to his leather jacket. She took a shallow breath through her mouth. She just needed to keep it together until she got home. 

~*~

They had only driven for a few minutes before Jughead broke the silence, his voice loud in the quiet cab. 

“So how did you get tangled up with an idiot like Andrews?”

“He isn’t an idiot,” she said before she could stop herself. Even now, after he had hurt her again again, she still rushed to his defense. What was wrong with her? She chanced a glance at Jughead, his eyebrow raised is disbelief. “We grew up beside each other our whole lives. He was my first friend. He’s the friend I’ve had for the longest. I guess somewhere along the lines it just felt like… it was expected of us to date. People used to bug us about it all the time in middle school, and then when we were freshman he asked me out. We’ve been together even since.”

“Until last week when you found out he was cheating on you,” Jughead finished. 

Her breath left her lungs, still unused to having her business spoken about so plainly. She turned away from Jughead, leaning her head against the window, liking the way the cool glass felt against her hot skin. Whether she was hot because of the vodka or the embarrassment was undecipherable at the moment. 

“Sorry,” he apologized, his voice low, “Sweet Pea tells me I have a problem with being too blunt.”

“Sweet Pea is a smart guy,” she murmured, keeping her eyes trained out the window. 

He chuckled and something in her chest swirled at the sound, “Yeah, he reminds me about how smart he is on a regular basis.”

Betty wanted to ask him about the fight she had overheard, but remembered the look on the man’s face who had closed the door on her face, his words echoing through her mind. He had been right. It wasn’t her business. 

“So what happened?” She turned to look at him, waiting for him to clarify. “I mean, you called Sweet Pea before Andrews showed up, so I assume that wasn’t why you called him.”

She huffed a bitter laugh, memories of the end of the football game rushing back to her. How was that only a few hours ago? It felt like it had happened in a distant past. “It’s nothing,” she uttered.

“I saw how mad Andrews was. I have a hard time believing it was nothing, but if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine too.”

She looked out the windshield, small raindrops starting to smack against the glass. She was exhausted, she realized, the effects of the alcohol morphing from fun to life-sucking. 

“He kissed her, in front of the whole school. Now everyone knows that we broke up, and that he chose her instead.”

They sat there for a while, her words hanging in the dead air. Had she shared too much? Her head still felt like it was spinning, had she misread the situation? Maybe he had just been offering to listen out of courtesy, maybe he hadn’t actually cared to hear about her problems. She was much too drunk to be having a heartfelt conversation with anyone. 

“Why do you care if everyone knows?” his words finally broke the silence. 

She considered the question. “Because,” she started. _It’s embarrassing,_ she finished in her head. But that wasn’t really it, was it? “Because everyone knows I wasn’t good enough now. That he chose someone else over me. That he found someone better.” 

Another bout of silence, they were getting close to her house now. Was this where their conversation ended? She would never admit it outloud, but she didn’t mind talking to him at that moment. It felt like he was actually _listening._

“You’re leaving Riverdale in nine months, so who cares if some nobody who is going to spend the rest of their life in this shitty town thinks you weren’t good enough for Archie Andrews, which is complete bullshit, by the way.” Betty tried to stop her jaw from dropping at the bout of candor from the man sitting beside her. “I say, live your life by your own ideals, not somebody else’s,” he finished. 

She slammed her mouth shut and chuckled darkly, her brow furrowing, “Easy for you to say,” she grumbled, “You don’t know my mom. And you can’t say that you don’t care what people think. If you truly didn’t care, you wouldn’t be such an asshole all the time,” she blurted. It only took her a moment for her to realize what she had said, her hands coming up to cover her mouth. She cursed Sweet Pea for buying her so many drinks, they had clearly lowered her inhibitions enough to say whatever was on her mind. 

She was about to apologize for her harsh words when Jughead burst out laughing, the sound filling the cab of Sweet Pea’s truck. She turned to look at him, worried. Maybe he was laughing sarcastically? 

“Wow, I _like_ this Betty Cooper. She actually says what she thinks,” he said, laughing still. She frowned at him, feeling indignation rise in her stomach. 

“I say what I think!” she compelled, knowing that her voice was too loud for the small space, but she couldn’t help herself. She didn’t understand Jughead. One moment he was talking to her about how she was too good for Archie, then the next second he was saying that she never spoke her mind. 

“Sure you do,” he agreed, “when you’re pissed at me.” 

She opened her mouth to disagree, then realized she would only be proving his point if she did. Instead, she crossed her arms over her chest and spun to face the window. She knew it was childish to pout, but he was just so… _infuriating._

His laugh echoed through the cab again, probably he was laughing at her lack of response. The sound was like a bucket of cold water being tossed at her. It felt like waking up, like the sun on her skin, like fresh mountain air. It was the most beautiful sound she had ever heard, and some part of her wanted to spend the rest of her days trying to hear it again. She shook herself lightly, trying to rid herself of her thoughts. She was never drinking again. It clearly impeded her ability to think clearly in any capacity. 

The truck pulled to a stop and Betty realized that they were on her street. It was only then that she realized she had never told him her address. She turned to him, staring at him in confusion. 

“Sweet Pea texted me your address,” he said quietly by way of explanation. She nodded, feeling slightly dazed now that all the adrenaline from the bar had faded. She was completely drained. 

Betty grabbed the door handle, pulling it and pushing the door open. She spoke softly, as if she were afraid to disturb the night air around them, “Thanks for the ride.”

“No problem,” he murmured, his voice equally soft. She nodded again, unsure of what else to say. She let herself drop out of the truck, clutching the door tightly as the world spun underneath her for a moment. She stepped up onto the curb and turned to the door when his voice rang out again in the silence. 

“Hey, Betty…” She stopped the motion of the door, looking up to meet his eyes. They looked unendingly deep in the moonlight, like if she were to fall into them she might just fall forever. 

“Yeah?” 

“You’ll…” he stopped to clear his throat, “you’ll call me? If Andrews gives you anymore trouble?”

Her heart clenched at the request, her breath quickening. She wanted to tell him no. Tell him that their relationship was business only, but the look on his face stopped her. He looked genuinely concerned and vulnerable in that moment, as if he had given her something precious to him, and was just hoping she wouldn’t crush it. She exhaled lightly, her stomach swirling. 

“Yeah, sure,” she agreed, her words causing the corner of his mouth to pull up into a half smile. She grabbed her bag and backpack off the floor, stepped away from the truck, and shut the door softly. She slipped her backpack over her shoulders, slinging the bag across one shoulder. Betty walked through the dewy grass, her flats soaking through, to the sidewalk. Jughead had parked about halfway down her street without her telling him to. Probably another thing Sweet Pea had mentioned. She watched as Jughead pulled away from the curb and headed down the street, his break lights glowing as he turned to head back to the Southside. 

She walked back to her house, running through the events of the last few hours. It felt like it was too much to happen in one evening. First, Archie and Veronica had made a very public declaration of their relationship. Then, Archie had tried to stop her from leaving the school with Sweet Pea, which had resulted in him trying to fight Jughead. 

Then, Betty, of all people, had lied to her mother, gone to the most notorious bar on the Southside, gotten much too drunk, overheard a fight she wasn’t supposed to hear, then got chauffeured home by the Serpent King himself. 

Betty climbed the steps to her house, pulling her key out of her Vixen’s bag. She slipped the key into the door quietly, not wanting to tip off her mother that she was home. Betty hoped that Alice was already asleep for the night. She was pretty sure that she smelled like a distillery. 

She opened the door and slipped inside, closing it softly behind her and relocked it. The house was quiet, the lights all off. She dug her cell phone out of her pocket, opting to use the flashlight on the device in favor of turning on any lights. 

Betty climbed the steps carefully, avoiding all the ones she knew creaked. Her mother’s door was slightly ajar, and Betty snuck down to the end of the hall, poking her head inside. Her mother’s bedside lamp was on, casting an orange glow around the room. 

On the nightstand was a half-drunk glass of wine, a small bottle of sleeping pills open next to it. Betty’s heart clenched painfully for a moment, her jaw clenching tightly. She let out a small exhale of breath. At least she wouldn’t be interrogated. 

She tiptoed back to her own room, putting her bags on the floor by her desk and quickly stripping off her clothes. She knew she should shower, but settled for brushing her teeth, trying to get the taste of lime out of her mouth. 

She slipped an oversized t-shirt over her head and climbed straight into bed, not bothering to find pajama bottoms. Her head was already starting to pound, and she was sure she was going to have an awful hangover in the morning. 

She fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, any leftover energy draining from her as soon as she was laying down. Her dreams were broken up into indecipherable chunks, the only thing that stuck with her was a pair of bright blue eyes, crinkled at the corners from laughter. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Liked it? Loved it? Wanna send me love letters or thinly-veiled threats? Well smash that kudos button, throw me a comment, come bug me on Tumblr! I love hearing from you guys!


	6. Someone Call Cuomo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! So I've decided that in an attempt to get updates out a little more consistently, I am going to cut up the chapters a little more. Before I was trying to fit two or three days per chapter, but after the monster that was chapter five, well... I'm cutting myself some slack. I really want this fic to update weekly, but let's get real. This chick cannot pump out 11K chapters every week. Hence, smaller chapters, but more consistency. YAY! Also, you may notice that I've changed some of the chapter names. Back when this was supposed to be a five-chapter fic, the thought of having a set of really cohesive and succinct chapter names seemed like a good idea. Now it is just really restricting me. 
> 
> Okay, okay, okay. That was a lot of dithering with the boring housekeeping stuff. Now onto the good stuff! Thank you to everyone who commented on the last chapter! You guys really make my day!

**Sunday**

Betty sat at home, pouring over her Chemistry and AP English homework and it wasn’t going well. She had spent most of yesterday morning going through polynomials with Sweet Pea, and the information was still swirling around in her mind, making it difficult to focus on her own schooling. 

She stared at the essay on her laptop for a few more moments before sighing harshly. The essay was due on Tuesday, and she had to have an entire worksheet of compounds balanced for tomorrow morning. She didn’t have the luxury of being unfocused. Not to mention, tomorrow was printing day, and she still had two articles to finish approving before she could send them to Ethel. 

She pushed her chair back from the desk briskly, standing and marching over to her backpack that was tucked into her closet. Before she could rethink her actions, she unzipped the top, plunged her hand roughly to the bottom, and grabbed the small bottle that was hidden there. Betty removed the bottle and shook out two pills into her hand, placing them both on her tongue. 

Her heart clenched as she swallowed the pills, taking care to hide the bottle in the depths of her bag once again. She instantly felt guilty for taking both pills, the small white capsules catching in her throat. She had already taken her Adderall that morning, but it obviously wasn’t working if she still couldn’t focus. 

She stood and walked to her bathroom, filling the cup that sat on the counter. Betty thought about the bottle of sleeping pills that had sat on her mother’s nightstand Friday evening. When Betty had gone to look for them in the morning, they had been gone. Tucked away out of sight.

She felt nausea rolling through her stomach. She had been so disappointed with her mother on Friday night, and yet here she was, popping Ritalin like they were Pez simply because she felt overwhelmed. How was she any better than Alice? She wished that she could make herself throw up, get rid of the medication that now sat in her stomach. She knew she wouldn’t be able to, though. Betty had found that out the hard way in freshman year, when a senior Vixen had tried to show her how to puke up her lunch so she could ‘drop that last five pounds’. She hadn’t been able to do it then, just like she wouldn’t be able to do it now. 

She wandered back into her room, shame burning deep in her belly. How had it come to this again? Why couldn’t she just keep things under control herself? Why did she always run back to the Ghoulies every time her life got a little too complicated?

She had a flashing memory of Sweet Pea holding her hair back in a stall at Southside High last year. 

She had been taking both the Ritalin and her Adderall for months at that point, trying her best to get to a perfect 4.0 GPA with hopes of getting early admission to an Ivy League. They had been going over his English assignment and her stomach had suddenly lurched. Before she knew what was happening, she had been running to the nearest bathroom, heaving up the contents of her stomach. 

Sweet Pea had held her hair and then just held her until she was done crying. When he finally asked what was wrong, she had spoken quietly, afraid that if she spoke too loud the walls would hear her, and then everyone would know exactly who Betty Cooper was. An over-achieving, pill-popping perfectionist. Sweet Pea had been so kind to her, his eyes filled with both concern and empathy. He had promised that he wouldn’t tell her mom, but she’d had to promise to stop taking the Ritalin. She had eagerly agreed, happy that her secret wouldn’t get out. 

When Betty relapsed a few months later, Sweet Pea had been the only one to notice. He had picked up on her changed behavior almost instantly. He had confronted her, once again promising not to tell anyone if she stopped. And she had, for a long time. 

It had only been the first week of senior year, with Betty taking three AP classes this semester, co-captain of the Vixens, front-runner for valedictorian, sole editor of the Blue & Gold, and head of the Prom committee, that she had considered calling Malachai again. She had been able to hold out for a couple of weeks, but eventually, the pressure had gotten to her. But she was determined to be smarter this time. No taking excessive amounts of pills, she would stick to one a day. 

And that had worked, for a little while. Until it hadn’t. 

She made new rules. She obviously needed a boost more than once a day. She would take an extra pill in the mornings and nights. Then before she knew it, she was taking another one before lunch, or Vixens practice. She took them when she was nervous. She took them when she was angry. She took them whenever she felt like it. She didn’t need hard and fast rules. She was almost an adult. She could manage herself just fine. 

And yet, here she was. Taking multiple pills at a time. Just like last time. 

She shook her head. It was just one time. She wouldn’t do it again. In the meantime, she might as well make use of the hyperfocus that she was about to have. Maybe if she applied herself she would be able to get all her work done before lunch. Then she could treat herself to a rare afternoon off. 

~*~

Betty walked down the stairs, feeling the Ritalin buzzing in her limbs. She had done it. Chem homework finished and turned in online. Essay done and ready to be edited once she had some time away from it. Articles proofread and sent to Ethel. 

At one point she had been sure her eyes would be permanently crossed after staring at her laptop screen for so long, but she was done now. She could take it easy for the rest of the day. Her stomach was growling loudly, protesting the pills in her stomach that were digesting with nothing other than a piece of toast from earlier that day. She needed to eat something before her stomach tried to turn itself inside out. 

Betty walked into the kitchen and froze when she saw Alice standing at the sink, washing a carton of strawberries. She had been hoping to avoid her mother all day, but apparently her luck from the day before had run out. 

She walked to the fridge, pulling it open without speaking. She wished for once that there was something for her to eat that didn’t include the words  _ whole wheat, low fat,  _ or  _ calorie wise.  _ Betty settled for a salad that was sealed in a mason jar, pulling the dressing from the door before she closed the door. She grabbed a fork as she passed her mother, settling in at the counter. 

She barely had gotten the jar open before her mother started in on her. 

“How is school?” Alice asked, her back still turned to Betty. There was something in her tone that alerted Betty it wasn’t a simple question. Nothing ever was with Alice. 

Betty finished chewing her mouthful before answering, “School is good.”

Another stretch of silence settled over the kitchen before Alice stepped away from the sink, drying her hands on a towel. 

“And the Blue & Gold?”

“It’s okay.” 

Betty held her breath, waiting for her mother to ask her how  _ she  _ was. She couldn’t remember the last time her mother wanted to talk about how Betty was doing instead of what she was doing. Alice opened her mouth to speak, and Betty felt her heart jump in her chest, then fall when Alice closed it once again, turning to put the strawberries into the fridge. Betty let a soft sigh leave her lips, poking at her salad. Typical. 

“How are Archie and Veronica?” Alice’s voice was soft from across the kitchen, but there was a glint of hard steel behind it. Betty set down her fork, raising her gaze to look at her mom. Alice, for the amazing investigator she was, had all the subtlety of a wrecking ball. 

“Blissfully happy with each other, I’m sure,” Betty said sarcastically. “I wouldn’t know, Mom. We aren’t on speaking terms.” She wasn’t about to tell Alice about her and Archie’s  _ disagreement _ from Friday. That would only create more chaos in Betty’s life, as she was sure her mother would go after the young boy with her sharp words and venom. 

Alice simply nodded at Betty’s words, wiping her hands again on the towel from the counter. It was a habit of hers, Betty recognized. Something her mother did when she was thinking hard. 

“Probably for the best,” Alice finally spoke, her voice clipped, “you outgrew their friendship a long time ago.” 

Betty seethed at the insinuation that she was better than anyone else. She hated that her mother held her to such a high standard, and by extension, everyone around her as well. 

“Maybe it’s time to pursue some more...advantageous relationships,” Alice suggested, her voice soft and contemplative. Betty dug her nails into the flesh of her palm, her arms beginning to shake as a wave of anger crashed over her. She knew that she should bite her tongue and eat her salad, but the adrenaline from the Ritalin lowered her usually iron-clad inhibitions. 

“Why does every relationship in my life have to be  _ advantageous? _ ” she snapped, her salad now completely abandoned. Alice turned to look at Betty over her shoulder, her face pulled into a condescending smile. 

“Don’t be naive, Betty. Everyone is always looking out for themselves. You would do well to do the same.”

Betty clenched her jaw as she looked at her mother. Alice’s jaded views were nothing new to Betty, but usually the elder Cooper didn’t usually put them out into the world so bluntly. Alice’s best weapons were thinly-veiled rebukes and sarcastic comments. Her newfound aggressive technique wasn’t something that Betty was used to. 

“Can’t I be friends with someone simply because I like them? Why does everything have to be a question of worth?”

Alice scoffed and waved a hand at Betty, as if batting away her words. “We live in a transactional world. Nothing is for free and you know that. You must always consider what you can give to and what you can get from a relationship before entering into one.” 

“Is that why you kicked Dad out? Was that transaction no longer benefiting you?”

The kitchen was silent for a breath, her mother turning to finally face her. Alice’s face was dark and unimpressed. Betty knew she wasn’t supposed to bring up Hal. It was a taboo topic in their house. 

“Your father was a cheater and a liar and-”

Betty slashed her hand through the air in front of her, shouting now, “And you’re a hypocrite!”

“Betty -” Alice tried again. 

“What about you? And the pills you take to fall asleep?” Betty’s voice continued to get louder, her face heating up as the words spilled out of her mouth. She hadn’t been this angry and actually  _ shown  _ it in years. 

“Elizabeth -” Betty ignored the warning in her mother’s voice in favor of continuing on her tirade. It felt  _ good  _ to actually say what she felt. 

“I  _ saw  _ them on your nightstand, don’t bother lying to me. What are you getting out of  _ that? _ ”

“ _ Elizabeth! _ ” Alice’s voice rang out in the kitchen, freezing Betty to the spot where she stood. Her mother was pure fury, her eyes blazing with warning. Their message was clear.  _ Stop pushing.  _ Betty knew her mother well enough to know that continuing down the path she was currently on would only result in disaster for herself. Betty watched as Alice took a deep breath, closing her eyes as she collected herself. 

When Alice opened her eyes again, her anger was contained. Betty had seen the blank look on her mother’s face enough times to know that Alice wasn’t going to let the conversation escalate any further. “We are done talking about this, Betty. Go study.”

Betty opened her mouth, prepared to fight back, but knew that it would get her nowhere. She could yell and scream all she wanted, but her mother wouldn’t engage. If anything, Betty would just be put under house arrest. She wouldn’t put it past Alice, she had done it before. 

Betty snapped her mouth closed and turned on her heel, walking swiftly towards the stairs. 

“Your lunch…” Alice started, her voice trailing off. Betty snorted, unwillingly to play the part of a perfect  _ Cooper  _ at that moment. 

“I’m not hungry,” she stated, marching up the stairs. She walked into her room and slammed the door. Shame blazed through her quickly, hating that she would do something as juvenile as slamming a door, but she knew that it would anger Alice more than it bothered her, so she contented herself with that thought in mind. Betty grabbed their next novel for English off her desk and dropped into her bed, hoping that the words on the page would distract her from reality for a little while. 

It wasn’t more than a half-hour later that there was a soft knock at Betty’s door, her mother pushing it open and sticking her head in. Betty looked up from the pages in front of her, glancing at Alice for a moment before turning her attention back down to her book. 

“I have to head to the Register to work on an article,” Alice informed her. Betty nodded, not looking up from her book. The silence hung over them uncomfortably. It was obvious that Alice wanted to talk, but Betty didn’t feel like talking. Alice heaved a sigh from her place at the door, “I put your salad in the fridge. You can have it for supper.” 

Betty simply nodded again, doing her best to keep her face neutral. She wouldn’t let Alice get a reaction out of her. Alice waited another moment and then closed the door. Betty listened as her mother’s steps retreated down the stairs, the sound of the front door opening and closing the only indication that she was alone. 

It was only then that Betty let her anger unfurl from the small ball it had been curled into within her chest. She threw her book at the door, taking satisfaction from the loud bang it made as it hit its target. 

Betty thought back to their fight in the kitchen, wondering why every time she finally worked up the courage to stand up to Alice, the results were always the same. Betty would get angry and Alice would deflect and shut down the conversation. If Betty pushed too far then there would be consequences. Period. 

There was no wiggle room with Alice Cooper. You did what you were told or you would pay the price. That’s what had happened to Polly. And her father. Betty shuddered at the thought of how quickly Alice had tossed away the other half of their family. She wondered if her mother could toss her away just as easily. 

Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing if she did.

Betty felt a sting in her palm and sighed heavily, looking up at the ceiling as opposed to the mess that she knew was sitting in her hand. She knew she needed to get up and clean her hands, more so that she wouldn’t make a mess on her sheets. But for the moment, she was content to simply sit in her bed, head resting against the headboard, wondering why it was that every day seemed like such a struggle. 

She didn’t know how long she sat like that - long enough for the blood in her palms to crust over, she thought absently - when her phone buzzed on her nightstand. Betty moved to grab it, careful not to disrupt the cuts in her hands. There was a simple message from Kevin, that, despite her foul mood, made her face break out into a smile. 

**I have decided that George Orwell is, in fact, a sadist and only published this book to torture teens with seventy years after his death.**

**Betty Cooper. I need your help.**

Betty read the text and laughed softly. Kevin’s penchant for dramatics would always be her favorite thing about him. She looked at the time, knowing that her mother wouldn’t be home for hours yet. She typed out a quick response, smiling. 

**Come on over. George doesn’t stand a chance.**

~*~

They had been tackling  _ 1984 _ for about two hours before Betty had finally gotten Kevin to a place where she was confident he understood. To be fair to him, the essay assignment was unnecessarily hard. It wasn’t a simple opinion essay, but a hard-hitting, cross-curricular monster. Their teacher had asked them all to look at totalitarian collectivism in the book, find an example of this from the past,  _ and  _ an example that was happening currently and compare the severity of all three. 

To someone like Betty, who was enthralled by history and current events, the assignment hadn’t been too difficult. She had already had many resources to use for her research, and the essay hadn’t taken her long to write. 

But for someone like Kevin, who was more inclined to the arts instead of the Humanities, it was certainly a struggle. 

“Thanks, Betty,” Kevin huffed as he collapsed on her bed, an arm thrown over his eyes. “You know, if Mrs. Arnett had asked us to write a paper about the history of systemic racism on Broadway, I could have finished it in a day, but this…” 

Betty laughed for her spot on the floor, papers spread out all around her. “And that is why you are going to do so amazing at NYU,” she smiled, looking around for an article that had been lost amongst all the others. 

“And the fact that you can do this kind of assignment with your eyes closed is exactly why you are going to dominate at Yale,” he threw back, craning his neck to look at her.

Betty saw the article she was looking for and pulled it close to her, glancing over the highlighted sections. She laughed softly at Kevin’s words. She wondered why everyone thought Yale was so amazing. Yale wasn’t even her choice. Another instance of Betty being pushed into something that wasn’t for her. 

Alice had wanted Betty to take Forensics to  _ “get Curdle Jr. out of that coroner’s office.” _ Betty knew why her mother wanted the Curdle’s out - paying off the father-son duo was pretty pricey after a certain point - and if she were being honest with herself, the idea of forensics had always interested her a little bit. 

But there was a corner of her heart, buried and hidden, that she stuffed her biggest dreams into. It was in that corner that she kept NYU and their investigative journalism program. 

She remembered back to the first time she had brought the idea up to her mother. Alice had simply laughed. 

_ “We already have a journalist in the family. Why do we need another? No, I think you can help our family in a different way.” _

Hence, Yale. 

“Yay for Yale,” she muttered softly, trying to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. Kevin flipped over onto his stomach, his torso now hanging off the edge of Betty’s bed. 

“Do I detect a hint of hostility?” he questioned, his eyebrow arched wildly. Betty stifled a giggle at the look on his face before his words sunk in all the way. She took a deep breath and set the article down beside her, folding her hands into her lap.

“It’s just…” she stopped, trying to find the best way to explain herself, “Yale wasn’t for me. It was for Mom. And I just… don’t know if it’s something I want, or could even  _ want  _ to want.”

Kevin regarded her for a moment, seeming to roll his ideas around in his head before speaking, “Well, what do  _ you  _ want?”

Black hair and leather flashed through her mind and she startled slightly, pushing the thoughts away from her as quickly as she could. That had been… unexpected. And probably just a knee-jerk reaction. He  _ had  _ quite literally recused her this weekend, that’s why she had thought of him. 

She thought of New York, and writing, and jogging in Central Park. She pushed those thoughts away too. It wouldn’t do to dwell on them. Her future had already been decided. “Doesn’t matter,” she uttered, smiling sadly, “I can’t have it anyway.”

There was a heavy silence between them when suddenly Kevin scoffed in the back of his throat, causing Betty to jerk her head up to look at him. 

“You know what?” he asked. “Fuck Alice Cooper.”

Betty gasped slightly and looked around, as if her mother was hiding behind a door, listening intently to their conversation. He moved quickly to kneel on her bed. 

“I mean it,” he urged, pointing at her emphatically, “Fuck Alice, and fuck Veronica, and fuck Archie. And while we’re at it, fuck  _ anyone _ who makes you think that you deserve less than everything you want out of life.” 

Betty laughed at the wild way his eyes shone. She wondered what it would be like to have that kind of ardor. She always kept her feelings and convictions locked away tightly. Maybe one day she would be able to get away from her mother and Riverdale long enough to be able to speak her mind fully. 

She laughed again before the smile slipped off her face, thoughts of last Friday crashing down on her. She sighed heavily before glancing to the window that faced Archie’s. Kevin must have followed her gaze, because his face pulled into a frown as he fell to sit on her bed, his legs crossed. 

“What did that idiot do now?” he asked. Betty thought about whether or not she wanted to tell Kevin. On the one hand, she didn’t want to talk about Archie anymore than she had to. However, it would be nice to talk about what had happened with somebody who knew Archie. 

Not that she didn’t enjoy Sweet Pea’s avidly horrible opinion about her ex, but it might feel good to talk to someone who understood that Archie was more than just a cheating asshole.

She took a breath and started to tell Kevin about what had happened Friday. He gasped when she told him about Archie and Veronica’s very public kiss, and booed when she explained how Archie had grabbed her in the parking lot. When she got to the part where Jughead had taken Archie to the ground without throwing a punch, Kevin had clutched his chest, falling dramatically back on the bed for a moment before springing back up. 

“This is riveting,” he gushed, “I can’t breathe.” 

Betty laughed along with him, thankful for the boy’s ability to make light of the worst of stories.

“So after your knight in shining armor defended your honor, what did you do?” 

Betty paused, unsure of what to say. She knew she could trust Kevin to keep a secret, but that wasn’t really the problem. Did she  _ want  _ anyone to know where she had been last Friday? She thought about it for a moment, before speaking quietly. 

“I, um… I went to the Whyte Wyrm and-”

Kevin interrupted her with a loud gasp and exclaimed, “Elizabeth Cooper!”

She winced and continued quickly, “-and I got drunk and then let Jughead Jones take me home,” she let out in a rush. She closed her eyes and waited for judgment to rain down on her, but all she heard was gasping laughter. 

She opened her eyes to see Kevin hunched over, clutching his stomach, deep belly laughs shaking his body. “What?” she shouted, honestly confused by his reaction, “What is so funny, Kevin Keller?”

She reached out for the pillow that had fallen off the bed, throwing it at her friend with all her might. It hit its intended target, slamming into Kevin’s face hard enough to knock him back slightly. Kevin grabbed the pillow and held it in his lap with one hand, wiping away an errant tear with the other. 

“My God, you don’t do anything halfway, including, but not limited to, breaking the rules,” he chuckled, his laughter dying down. Her face blushed red at his words. She couldn’t really deny that he was right. She rarely ever broke the rules, but it seemed like when she did, it was an all or nothing affair. 

She glared at Kevin good-naturedly as he calmed himself down, silent laughter still shaking his body. 

“I saw Joaquin there,” Betty added, watching the way Kevin’s face fell a little, “He asked about you.”

There Kevin’s eyes lit up a little, but he was careful to keep the satisfaction that Betty knew he felt under wraps. “Did he now?”

Betty simply nodded, training her eyes back down at the papers around her. Something soft yet unyielding slammed into her face, sending her flying back. She gasped with indignation as she pulled the pillow that she had thrown at him only moments ago off her face. 

“Don’t even start with me,” Kevin narrowed his eyes with a smile, pointing a finger at her when she opened her mouth to rebuke him, “You know why we broke up.”

Betty simply shrugged, throwing the pillow back onto her bed, avoiding hitting Kevin. She pulled herself back up to sit. “Doesn’t mean I think it was the right choice.”

Kevin sighed and rolled his eyes. They’d had this conversation many times since the two boys had broken up at the end of junior year. Kevin wanted to go to New York, Joaquin had to stay in Riverdale. In Kevin’s eyes, there had been no point to drag out the inevitable. He had broken it off with the Serpent, and Betty knew that he regretted the decision frequently. 

“What about you, Elizabeth?” he asked, his tone hard. It wasn’t anger in his voice, but something closer to reprimand. “How did you thank your fearless savior for getting you home safely after a wild night of drinking with the Serpents?”

Betty sputtered at Kevin’s insinuation, meeting his eyes with a scowl. “I said ‘thank you’ and walked to my house, Kevin,” she said firmly. 

“Oh?” he simpered, “No good night kiss?” There was wild glee in his eyes as she glared at him. He was pushing her on purpose. 

“Absolutely not!” Betty urged. “I wouldn’t kiss someone like him.”

Kevin zeroed in on her words, arching his eyebrow, “A Serpent? Betty,” he admonished, “surely you don’t judge people based on what side of town they live on.”

“An asshole,” she corrected with fervor. Kevin faked a gasp and pressed his palm to his chest. “Such language,” he chastised before laughing to let her know he was joking. He settled back in and looked at her seriously, “What do you mean?” 

Betty scoffed in the back of her throat, “God, Kevin. He is the worst. He thinks he’s so smart and he disagrees with me all the time about everything just because he can. And he is always making fun of me and trying to get under my skin. He’s cocky and annoying and -”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he likes you,” Kevin interrupted, a small smile tugging at his lips. 

“What?” she faltered, clutching at the papers on the floor beside her, “What would make you possibly think that?”

“Patent kindergarten rules,” he shrugged, tugging at an errant string on his sleeve. “Remember when Reggie used to pull on your pigtails?”

“Yes?” she agreed reluctantly.

“And then the next week he tried to kiss you on the playground?”

“Yeah, and I gave him a black eye,” she chuckled, remembering the young boy crying and running to the teacher, Betty’s small fists clenched in anger. 

“So Jughead disagrees with you all the time, seemingly on purpose. He teases you just to get a rise out of you. He tries to get under your skin every time you see him....” Kevin looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to finish his line of thought but she kept her mouth firmly shut. She wasn’t going to play his game. He huffed a sigh, throwing his hands in the air. “He’s pulling your pigtails, Cooper. And doing a good job of it, too, if your reaction is any indication.”

She glared at him, sticking her tongue out. She considered his words before speaking, “That’s the most idiotic thing I’ve ever heard. Who, at 21-years-old, picks on someone they like?”

“Maybe he doesn’t know how else to get your attention,” Kevin mused, smiling at the look Betty shot him.

“What?” he laughed, “It’s true! Do you know how many times I’ve watched Trev Brown try to ask you out?”

“Excuse me?” she asked, confused, “Trev Brown has never once asked me out -”

“Fourteen times, to be exact. Not that I’m counting for my own amusement or anything,” he interjected, a huge grin taking over his face at the flustered look on hers. 

“Kevin,” she admonished, “That can’t be right. I would know if someone was flirting with me.” Wouldn’t she? She tried to think back to a single time the junior had asked her out, but couldn’t think of one. Kevin had to be exaggerating. 

“Spring Fling our sophomore year was the first time. Junior Prom was the last.” Betty thought back to both times, remembering vaguely the younger boy speaking to her about the dances. But… he had just been asking her if she was going. Did that count as asking someone out? What about the other twelve times, as Kevin had suggested there was? Was she really that oblivious?

“The evidence proves the contrary, Miss Cooper. You, for all the intelligence that you possess, are quite oblivious to the attentions of male suitors.” Betty simply stared at Kevin, her mouth open in horror. 

“I don’t even know how to respond to that,” she admitted. 

Kevin barked out a laugh, startling her. “A speechless Betty Cooper? Someone call Cuomo, I want an award.”

“Shut up,” she muttered, burying her face in her hands to hide the scarlet blush that resided there. She listened to Kevin chuckle above her as she contemplated his words. Surely, the boy was wrong. There was no way that someone like Jughead would ever be interested in someone like her. 

He probably thought she was just another spoiled, entitled Northside girl. And she couldn’t even tell him any differently. She had grown up comfortable, never having to worry about where her next meal was coming from or if her family could afford new clothes for school for her and her sister. She never had to wonder if the bills were paid, or if there would be presents under the Christmas tree. 

She never had spoken to Jughead about these things, but after being Sweet Pea’s friend for the past year, she had come to understand that these were common things for Southside families to experience. As much as it had infuriated her at first, it was something that Sweet Pea had told her not to worry about. 

What could someone like her - privileged, soft, fed from a silver spoon - possibly offer a man who had grown up like Jughead, fighting tooth and nail for things that were freely given to her? She couldn’t. She knew that.

It didn’t matter that he defended her when it counted. Or that he was well-read. Or that he was kind of handsome. None of that mattered because Betty knew Jughead Jones would never want a  _ Northside Princess. _ And she was okay with that. 

She really  _ was.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Liked it? Loved it? Hated it? Leave me a comment! Tell me all about it! Smash that kudos button! I, like all writers, exist solely on praise, attention, and coffee. So feed me. Please.


	7. Ally's Pho and Vietnamese

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My goodness, hello everyone! It's been a while and I am truly sorry for keeping all of you waiting. Some housekeeping. Someone asked me on Tumblr if I was planning on finishing TPM and the answer is yes, but at a much slower rate than I originally planned. I have struggled writing Riverdale fanfic for a while now, my focus has been stolen by some other fandoms, and as a result I have lost some of my motivation.   
> Now, that isn't to say that I'm going to abandon TPM. This story is still a favorite of mine, and I love the Jughead and Betty I have cultivated here. With all that in mind, I think it's only fair to let you all know that TPM will only be updating once a month for the foreseeable future. I am doing this in an effort to allow myself time to work on some other fics that I am really passionate about, while continuing to work on this story.   
> I hope you all stick with me through it, I think it's going to be worth it!
> 
> *Also, I have never been to Vietnam, nor have I ever ordered at an authentic Vietnamese Restuarant, but I've always wanted to! I tried to research as best as I could, but if Jughead's order seems totally out to lunch... then that is why and I beg your forgiveness for my ignorance!
> 
> *Also, also.... Betty blushes _a lot_ in this. Like soooooo much. But, honestly, if you were faced with Jughead Jones wouldn't you blush?

**Tuesday**

Betty sat on the edge of the couch and reached into her backpack as the other members of the Blue & Gold filtered out of the room. It had been a productive meeting, and for that she was glad. They were well into their second month of school and she had spent most of her time as editor coaching the other writers she had underneath her. 

She had spent countless meetings going over what an interesting article might look like, trying to empower her writers to go out and find their own stories. That day’s meeting had been the first time all of her writers had pitched their own ideas. And they were  _ good  _ ideas. 

Betty allowed herself a small smile of satisfaction. Maybe if she didn’t have to micromanage at the Blue & Gold, she could have more time for herself. She pulled the bottle from the bottom of her backpack. 

After her backslide on Sunday, she had convinced herself that she didn’t need the Ritalin as much as she had been using it. She had made a plan to only use it when she absolutely needed it. But then she had been welcomed Monday morning to the printer on the fritz. So she had snuck one. 

Then there was Vixen’s practice, and the sophomores started asking her about Archie and Veronica and what had happened on Friday. So she had raced to the dressing room under the guise of forgetting her clipboard and had taken another. 

Tuesday morning she had gotten in a fight with her mother, so another on the walk to school. And now she had a yearbook meeting and she could feel the crisp clarity fading away. She looked at the bottle, her heart sinking when she saw one lonely pill left. 

A wave of despair crashed over her. She was tempted to dump out her backpack, but she knew that she would find nothing. She slammed her eyes shut, thinking about the last few days. 

She had met up with Jughead last Wednesday. She thought back, cataloging the pills silently. Betty glanced down at the bottle again. Her knee bounced at the realization that she had blown through another bottle in under a week. She uncapped the bottle, shaking the lone pill into her hand, and grabbed her water bottle. She didn’t have time to worry about what it meant that all the pills were gone. 

She reminded herself to breathe, placing the Ritalin on her tongue before washing it down with a gulp from her bottle. She took a deep breath and made a plan in her head. She needed more. Which meant texting Jughead. Soundbites of her conversation with Kevin swirled in her mind, but she pushed them away. 

Priorities. List them. 

_ Text Jughead.  _

She took another deep breath, closing her eyes. 

_ Go to the yearbook meeting.  _

She needed to make sure she took care of all her other responsibilities before she met up with Jughead. 

_ Get more Ritalin.  _

She knew that she had to restrain herself more. She needed to make some kind of schedule, or maybe a check and balance system, that would prevent her from overtaking the medication. Another deep breath. 

_ Get your shit together.  _

One last inhale, holding the oxygen there for a moment. She let it out slowly between her teeth and pushed herself to stand. She felt minutely better knowing that she had a plan now, although regret and panic still tangled nauseatingly in her stomach. She could feel the claws tearing up her insides, ripping her apart. 

Betty nodded to herself, pulling her phone out from her back pocket. She just had to follow the plan. Number one was texting Jughead. 

The thought of seeing him again sent a little thrill through her, but she stamped down the feeling quickly. She needed to be guarded around him, thinking back to the last back alley encounter they had had. He was suspicious of the frequency of their meetups. He had questioned her then, he was sure to question her again. She needed to think of an excuse as to why she was already out, because what Malachai had told the Serpent had been correct. The amount she was buying should have been lasting her twice, if not three times, as long as it was. 

She shook her head, clearing her thoughts. She could think of an excuse on the bus ride to the Southside. Right now, she needed to text Jughead, set up a meeting time, and then get to the yearbook meeting. 

**Are you available to meet up tonight?  
** **** There, she nodded. She had tried to retain a professional relationship. Betty felt a little bad for not being friendlier, her Cooper training kicking in, but reminded herself that this was just business. She shouldered her backpack and left the office, locking it behind her. Her phone placed safely back in her pocket, she began to walk down the hallway briskly, heading to the classroom where the meeting would be held. 

She tried not to let her mind wander, but it was difficult knowing that there was the potential that she would see Jughead that night. Even though she wouldn’t admit it to Kevin, his words from their conversation had resonated with her. It had been at the forefront of her mind for the previous since. 

She wished she could say that she had been angrily contemplating the absurdity of a potential relationship in her life, and that relationship being with her  _ drug dealer,  _ but that hadn’t been the direction her mind had taken her. 

Instead, she had spent her time staring into space, wondering what it meant for her if Kevin’s theory was correct. What if Jughead was interested in her? What did she do? She was ashamed to admit that her first thought was that she needed to maintain a civil relationship with him, if only so that she wouldn’t have to be caught in shady back alleys with Malachai again. 

She had pushed that thought roughly aside, she didn’t use people. She wasn’t her mother. 

That still left her with the problem of what she would  _ do.  _ She tried to imagine a scenario where she would be with Jughead. Her mind instantly conjured up an image of him, with his soft hair, brooding eyes, and sharp wit. A spark of desire jolted through her. 

So she was attracted to him? That didn’t mean anything other than the fact that he was an attractive man and she had eyes. That didn’t mean that she liked him. That she would ever...

Her phone buzzed in her pocket as she entered the classroom and her heart thumped painfully. She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes at herself. It was just a text. 

**Meet in 10?**

She cursed under her breath, glancing up quickly to make sure no one heard her. She received an odd look from one of the sophomores but ignored it. Thoughts of her reputation and it’s ever-slipping credibility viciously ripped through her. After Veronica and Archie’s public announcement of their relationship, it seemed as though everyone around Betty was waiting for her to fall apart. She made eye contact with the sophomore and raised an eyebrow as if to ask if there was a problem. The sophomore looked away, busying themselves with straightening some papers and Betty glanced back down at her phone, keying out a quick response. 

**I can’t meet until 6.**

She felt her grip on her life slipping. Just two weeks ago she was at the top of the social ladder. At the time, she would have told anything that her popularity didn’t matter to her, but at seeing just how much privilege it had afforded her, she wasn’t sure she had the same answer now. 

Two weeks ago, a sophomore never would have looked at her like that, like they knew something about her life that she didn’t. It ate away at her nerves, making her feel like her carefully constructed and maintained persona was crumbling before her eyes. Her phone buzzed again. 

**See you then.**

She let out a breath, looking around at the students gathered in the room. That was one problem taken care of. All she had to do was get through the meeting and then she would go meet Jughead. She would get her Ritalin and everything would be fine. She nodded more to herself than anybody, calling the meeting to order. She sat at the head of the table, feeling at home with all eyes on her, waiting for instruction. 

“Alright everyone, let’s talk layouts.”

~*~

Betty walked into the alley, the hood of her jacket pulled up over her head. The ground was littered with trash, barely lit by the streetlamp that sat at the end of the alley. She could see someone leaned up against the brick wall a little way down and she could only hope that it was Jughead. She took her keys out of her pocket and slid them through the spaces between her fingers, making a fist around them. Just in case. 

She approached the person slowly, her heart racing when the silhouette pushed off the wall. Their hood was up as well, making it nearly impossible for her to guess who it was. Then Betty saw the swish of incorrectly worn suspenders dangling beside the man’s hips and she let out the breath that she hadn’t known she had been holding. The man walking towards her removed his hood, revealing dark curls caged beneath a crown-shaped beanie. 

She released her keys from between her knuckles, her heart slowing from its raucous thumping to a more manageable pace. A smile threatened to slip out of her mouth, her content slippery and difficult to reign in. When did she start feeling at ease around him? When had meeting Jughead in a dark alley become safer than walking the halls at school? 

She shook off the thoughts and let a controlled smile take over her face. “Hi,” she greeted simply, trying not to sound breathless. Her heart was still trying to settle into its regular rhythm and she was hesitant to reveal that the sight of him comforted her. 

He came to a stop in front of her, his eyes trained on the ground at her feet. Betty tilted her head at his lack of a greeting. She didn’t have much evidence to go on, but Jughead usually seemed at least mildly interested in her presence. Maybe Kevin was wrong, maybe he didn’t like her at all, maybe he had just been tolerating her and his patience had run out. 

“Sorry for needing to meet so late,” she tried engaging him again, “I had some meetings after school and-”

He lifted his head to meet her gaze and there was an expression there that she had never seen on his face. The glare that she was faced with chilled her, sucking away all the warmth she had felt only moments ago. He didn’t say anything, instead reaching into his pocket and producing the small bottle that was necessitating their meeting. 

“Thanks,” she murmured, taking the pills and slipping them in her pocket. Betty pulled the small roll of bills from her other pocket, passing it to him. She watched his hand hesitate as he reached for the money, her head clouding with confusion. She wanted to say something else, but had no clue how to talk to Jughead when he looked like that. Like he was on the edge of murder. She took a step back before she realized what she was doing. 

A part of Betty wanted to turn and run far from the eyes that were piercing into her, stabbing into her heart like a knife slipping between her ribs. 

The other part of her, she realized with disbelief, wanted to wrap her arms around his shoulders and ask him what had happened to make him look like that. 

She shook her head and exhaled lightly. She couldn’t do that. Maybe it was just an involuntary response she would have towards him now, after he had defended her last weekend. Her brain telling her that she needed to return the kindness that he had shown her. She glanced around the alley, unsure of what to do next or what to say. 

Her body, it seemed, had a solution to her silence as her stomach rumbled audibly. She clutched her stomach quickly, realizing only then that she hadn’t eaten in hours. Betty felt a blush creep up her neck and she struggled to stifle it. 

“I have to go,” she whispered, avoiding the gaze that was still trained on her. She turned on her heel and started walking quickly back the way she had come. She checked her phone quickly, cursing at the bad timing. She had just missed the bus, meaning she would have to wait at the sketchy bus stop for ten minutes for the next one. 

Betty shoved her phone back in her pocket, unaware of the footsteps that followed her. Only when they were too close did she realize that someone was walking - no,  _ running -  _ after her. Her heart seized with panic for a moment before his voice rang out.

“Wait,” his voice echoed off the narrow alley walls, “hang on, Betty.” 

She slowed and turned to look over her shoulder. Jughead was jogging down the alley toward her, his feet slapping against the pavement. She kept her face intentionally blank, not wanting to give away how disappointed she was with their short conversation. 

“Do…” he stopped just short of her, panting slightly from running, “Do you want to go get something to eat?” 

Betty lost the fight with herself to keep her face blank and his words sunk in. Shock flashed across her face. Was… was he asking her out? Why? The look that had been in his eyes just seconds ago was gone now, replaced by a disconcerting openness that she wasn’t used to. 

She didn’t like this kind of emotional whiplash, her heart hammering against her ribs painfully. One moment he looked like he was ready to burn down the world, and the next he was looking at her as if he would fall apart if she declined his offer. Where was the Jughead that had sat in a booth at Pop’s and teased her? That Jughead was one she could contend with, one who was safe. . The one in front of her was too unpredictable to be considered safe. 

“Look, I’m sorry for being a jackass when you showed up. Something… happened, but that’s not your fault…”

She realized he had begun talking while she had been trying to reconcile his head-spinning change in demeanor. He was apologizing for… something, and his bad mood  _ wasn’t _ because of her? A sigh escaped her chest, relief flooding her, followed by scorn. Betty tried to take a breath to settle her thoughts, which felt like they were all over the place. It was confusing, and making her stomach turn with the familiar twist of uncertainty. She felt out of control, like she couldn’t trust her own emotions, which were swinging wildly from one end of the spectrum to the other. 

“I don’t know, Jughead,” she said, not sure if she wanted to sit across from him at a table with him, with nowhere to look but those crystalline eyes. Those eyes that never seemed to miss anything.

“Please, Betts,” he tried again, and her heart stalled at the use of the nickname, “I’ll pay.” 

Betty scoffed, trying to shove down the fluttering that had taken hold of her insides when he had called her  _ that.  _ She would have thought the nickname would have brought up bad memories of Archie, considering that the boy had called her that since they were children. But it hadn’t. There was something about the name on his lips that felt...right. 

A hand came up to lightly wrap around her wrist and she froze for a half-second, memories of Archie grabbing her roughly rushing to the forefront of her mind, but there was nothing rough about the way Jughead held her. 

His long fingers wrapped around her wrist, his thumb landing on the inside of the bone there. She assured herself that she imagined the light way his thumb rubbed over her wrist bone, just once. Yes, she  _ definitely _ imagined that. 

She felt her resolve crumble as she looked back up into his eyes, their depths imploring her to accept his invitation. She didn’t want to tell him no again, she realized with a start. Once again her mind raced back to Kevin’s words.  _ Maybe he doesn’t know how else to get your attention,  _ Kevin had said. Well, Jughead certainly had her attention now. 

“Fine,” she sighed, “but only because you’re paying. And I’m starving.” 

~*~

She had been expecting him to take her back to his bike, but had been met with an old, rundown truck instead. It was smaller than Sweet Pea’s and definitely in worse shape, if that was even possible. 

Betty was surprised when he opened her door for her, not expecting that kind of chivalry from Jughead, but she was coming to realize that he wasn’t someone whose personality could be pinned down easily. 

He was a collection of contradictions. Hemingway and worn leather. Homemade beanies and bikes. Blue eyes and bruised knuckles. 

They didn’t talk as he drove. Instead, she listened to the rain as it pattered against the metal roof. Her backpack sat against her ankles, and the Ritalin sat heavy in her pocket. She knew it was all in her head, but the small bottle felt like dynamite, like one wrong move and it would blow her to pieces. 

She had been sure that he was taking her to Pops, but after a few turns she realized that they were heading deeper into the Southside. Her stomach churned with uncertainty for the briefest moment, but she pushed it down, taking a shallow breath. Sweet Pea trusted Jughead and she trusted Sweet Pea. She wanted to take a leap of faith, but horrific headlines flashed through her mind of women being found dead in alleys. 

Another shallow breath. She pulled out her phone, typing out a message to Sweet Pea, asking if he would come get her. Her thumb was hovering over the ‘send’ button when Jughead pulled into a small parking lot, putting the truck into park.

Betty looked up from her phone, taking in the building in front of her. It looked a little rundown, which she was coming to expect from the businesses on the Southside, but overall not suspicious. There was a sign that indicated it was a restaurant, but too many of the letters were burnt out, making it hard for her to decipher what the sign was supposed to say. 

She felt him leave the truck, the vehicle dipping as he stepped out of the cab and she opened her own door and slipped to the ground. She watched as Jughead rounded the front of the truck, something akin to disappointment shadowing his face. Betty reached into her pocket, hastily shoving the bottle of pills into her backpack. She didn’t want the burning sensation of having them on her person to last any longer than it had to. She was just zipping up her backpack when Jughead’s voice rang out above her. 

“Everything alright?” his voice was closer than she had anticipated and she jumped as a result, an embarrassing squeak leaving her lips. 

“Yeah,” she answered, too brightly. She stepped back and shut the truck door, finding herself pressed almost completely up against Jughead’s chest. She gulped at the feeling of warmth as the rain drizzled down on them. She turned quickly to face him, forced to look up at him, her neck craning at the height difference. Had he always been that tall?

He smiled, like he knew a secret that she didn’t, and stepped away from her. “So…” he trailed off, raising an eyebrow, “how about we get out of this rain?”

“Oh,” she started again, realizing that she had been staring at him, “yeah.” She turned to walk to the down, mentally kicking herself. She had a 4.0 GPA and the only word she could seem to say was  _ yeah _ . She had gotten a 1403 on the SATs, she was a journalist for the school newspaper, she had an extensive vocabulary, she was the frontrunner for  _ valedictorian,  _ dammit. So why, around Jughead Jones of all people, was she reduced to monosyllabic words? 

Betty let Jughead open the door for her, then paused when they got inside. She never would have been able to guess that the restaurant would be so cozy simply from the outside of the building. There were several small tables arranged around the room, with soft lighting keeping the dining area lit but not overly bright. The walls were painted red, and the orange glow from the lights bounced off it, wrapping the entire restaurant in a blanket of soft crimson. 

Jughead walked past Betty, leading her to a table beside the window. She wasn’t surprised when he pulled out her chair for her. Had Archie ever pulled out a chair for her? She couldn’t remember. 

She watched as he stepped to the other side of the table, folding his too-tall body into the seat across from her. He reached a hand up to remove the beanie from his curls, shaking out his hair with his fingers. For a brief moment, she wondered what his hair would feel like between her fingers. It looked so soft. 

She saw a lopsided smirk on his face and realized that he must have noticed her staring. She fought the blush that was once again trying to crawl up her neck, averting her eyes to look out the window. 

Betty jumped when a short woman with shiny black hair appeared next to her, a wide smile on her face as she placed two menus on the table. 

“Welcome to Ally’s Pho and Vietnamese-” the woman looked up and halted to a stop, a wide smile spreading across her face, “Jughead!”

“Hey, Ally,” Jughead beamed at the woman, “how are the kids?”

“Oh you know teenage boys. Always in trouble,” she winked at him, shaking her head as if they were sharing some secret. Betty watched the interaction, confused and fascinated. This was further evidence that Jughead Jones was not as intimidating as everyone accused him of being. 

“Sounds about right,” Jughead chuckled, looking down at the table. There was something in his response that made Betty think he knew all about teenage boys getting into trouble. Sweet Pea had imparted a few stories of their shared childhood to her, and she had heard enough to know that the two boys were no angels. 

“You haven’t come to visit in so long, I thought you had found some trouble of your own,” Ally smiled slyly, a knowing look passing between the two of them that Betty tried to decipher. When she looked at Jughead there was a sheepish grin on his face, the slightest hint of red coloring his cheeks. 

“We’ve been busy down at the Wyrm,” he uttered, reaching a hand up to rub the back of his neck. Ally nodded, her smile slipping a little at his admission. 

“Ah… yes.” The woman sighed lightly, and Betty found herself lost in the subtext. It was clear that both Jughead and Ally knew what was being spoken of, but it went above Betty’s head. She watched as both Southsider’s seemed to realize her presence once again, and Ally shook her head, putting the smile back on her face.

“What can I get you?” Ally asked, her pen hovering above her notepad. 

“Do you know what you want?” Jughead’s words caused her to pause. She looked down at the menu, seeing that it was a hybrid of English and another language that was clearly Vietnamese, her mind reeling with words that she couldn’t decipher. 

“Uh…” Panic crawled up her throat painfully. 

“I can order for us, if you want,” he leaned in as he whispered, winking when she blushed. 

“Okay,” she breathed, relief washing over her. At least she could avoid embarrassing herself by trying to order off a menu that she could barely read. 

“We’ll have a bowl of Pho Ga, Bun Cha, and Com Rang, and I’ll take a coffee,” he finished, speaking with confidence. Jughead looked at Betty, tilting his head as if waiting for her to add something. 

“And you, Miss? Anything to drink?” the woman looked at her expectantly, a soft smile pulling at her lips. 

“Oh,” Betty started, trying to cover her frazzled nerves with a smile, “Just a water, please.”

Ally simply nodded, taking the menus that they handed to her before walking back into the kitchen. 

The two sat in silence for a while, Betty’s leg bouncing under the table rapidly. Jughead was simply looking out the window, the barest hint of a smile on his face. It unnerved her. Shouldn’t he be teasing her, or antagonizing her somehow? 

“Are you friends with every restaurant owner in town or…” she let her sentence drift off, grinning at his raised eyebrows. If she didn’t know better, she might have thought she had surprised him, if only for a moment. His lips quirked up to one side when he was holding back a smile, she noticed. 

“Ally’s an old friend,” he answered evasively, his gaze on the table. He looked like a little kid who was caught lying, she thought. Bashful and sweet and gentle. 

A giggle burbled up from her chest and she covered her mouth quickly, trying to stifle it. Anxiety swirled in her stomach as her thoughts registered in her mind. Her knee continued to bounce under the table. Jughead looked up swiftly, pinning her down with his gaze as he rested his chin on his palm. 

“What’s so funny?” he asked as he raised an eyebrow and her heart stuttered in her chest. When he looked at her like that, a soft smile on his face, hand tucked under his chin, black hair haphazardly pushed to the side, it was like he was a completely different person. 

The man sitting in front of her looked nothing like the Jughead that she had met in the alley less than an hour ago. 

This Jughead was softer, laidback, kind. Gone were the sarcastic comments and the teasing. She wondered, not for the first time, if she wasn’t the only person pretending to be something they weren’t. That maybe he was like her. That maybe he had masks that he hid behind and expectations that were too much for just one person. 

“Just thinking about something my friend Kevin said this weekend,” she answered, smiling at her own vague words and the amused confusion displayed in Jughead’s eyes. 

“It’s nice to see you smile,” he murmured. She could tell by the look on his face that he hadn’t meant for the words to slip out. She felt the smile on her face widen, her cheeks reddening at his unintentional admission. 

His cheeks were flushed as well, and she found herself wanting to tease him about it, but held back. This was new territory. There was a distinct lack of hostility and Betty felt as though she finally understood him for the first time. Which she knew, in the back of her mind, was absurd. Nothing had changed, not really. She hadn’t learned anything new about him, all he had done was take her to a restaurant. 

And yet… 

She watched as he squirmed in his seat, visibly uncomfortable from his slip up. She found herself wanting to ease his discomfort and part of her wanted to reach across and rub her thumb across the furrow in his brow. She shook her head slightly and took a deep breath. It was stifling to be sitting so close to him. Every time he moved his hands, a waft of cigarettes and something oaky would hit her, frazzling every last nerve in her body. 

She needed to fill the silence. To take its place with something that would keep her mind off the hands that kept running through his hair. 

“Top five favorite books,” she blurted out, her voice ringing out loudly in the quiet room. Betty ducked her head, squeezing her eyes shut tightly for a moment. God, she was such a  _ freak _ . 

A chuckle across the table forced her eyes up to meet his, his own eyes trained on the table. Betty tilted her head, drawn in by his laughter. Was her question funny? Or was it her embarrassment afterward that was amusing to him? 

She watched as a thin hand reached up to push his unruly bangs out of his face, his eyes flickering up to meet hers. The smile on his face almost took her breath away. “Only five?” he murmured, his voice like crushed gravel, “How am I supposed to choose only five?”

Something in her chest fluttered when she looked at him smiling at her like they were sharing some intimate secret, his fingers raking through his hair. She tried to swallow but found her mouth unhelpfully dry. Betty did her best to hide the mess that was happening inside her, raising an eyebrow with what she hoped was a playful smile. 

“I guess you’ll just have to make do,” she uttered, resting her chin on her hands. His smile widened and she took it for a small victory. He opened his mouth to speak and she found herself leaning in, ready to listen intently to him talk about his favorite books. 

“How was everything?” Ally’s voice was bright and cheery, her smile directed at Betty. 

“Delicious,” Betty answered emphatically, placing her napkin down on her plate. “I’ve never had Vietnamese before and…” she paused, trying to find the words, “just, wow.” Ally chuckled and grabbed the plates in front of them, stacking them all the way up her small arms. Betty wondered idly how many years of practice it took to be able to balance all those plates without dropping them. 

“That’s very kind of you to say,” Ally thanked her, then looked to Jughead with a devious smile, “I like this one, Jughead. Make sure that you bring her back to compliment my cooking again.”

Betty’s eyes widened at the compliment, her mind immediately attaching to the words  _ this one _ . Had Jughead brought other girls here before? A flare of jealousy tore through her that she struggled to tamp down. This wasn’t a date, she reminded herself. Even if they were alone, sharing a meal, and had spent most of the meal talking about their mutual interests. 

No. 

It  _ wasn’t  _ a date. 

Betty refocused at the sound of strangled coughing, suddenly noticing that Jughead was staring at Ally with the same kind of look that Betty used to give Poly when her older sister had embarrassed her on purpose. 

“It’s not… she’s not…” Jughead sputtered, his hand reaching out quickly before he pulled back to himself, tucking it away under the table. Betty watched in amusement, looking from Jughead to Ally, who was now laughing in his face.

“I’ll put it all on your tab, okay?” Ally asked with a wink, turning to walk away from their table. 

Jughead simply sighed, lifting a hand to drag down his face, “Thanks, Ally.” 

Betty watched as Ally took their plates back to the kitchen, her words echoing in Betty’s mind. She wondered what kind of girls Jughead would date. Probably a fellow Serpent, maybe someone with tattoos or piercings. Definitely not someone who looked as polished as Betty had to every day. She would be rough around the edges, maybe she smoked, like he did. The sound of a cleared throat brought her back to the table, and she hoped that her thoughts hadn’t been displayed plainly on her face. She didn’t need Jughead thinking she was jealous. She  _ wasn’t  _ jealous, she reminded herself. 

“Thank you,” she said quietly, letting the small smile that rested on her lips stay there. “For dinner, I mean.” For once, she didn’t want to hide her happiness. 

“It was my pleasure,” he responded, his patent smirk back. There was something hiding just behind it, though. Betty couldn’t quite pin down exactly what it was, but she knew enough to know that his smirk was missing some of its usual arrogance. 

Betty’s phone buzzed in her pocket, some sophomore asking about Prom decoration budgets, and it was only then that Betty noticed the time. 

“Oh, God,” she breathed, her heart leaping into her chest, “I have to go. My mom is going to be home soon. I have to get there before she does.” The words rushed out, her chest pounding painfully in panic. Jughead nodded, not commenting on her sudden change in demeanor, which she was grateful for. She didn’t feel like explaining the complicated dynamic between her and her mother. 

“Yeah,” he answered, standing up quickly and donning his jacket and beanie, “I’ll drive you.” 

Betty’s heart seized for more than one reason. The ease with which he offered her a ride home surprised her. It felt so...domestic. Like it was something she could get used to hearing. It terrified her. 

Then, of course, there was the very real feeling of terror of Alice watching Betty pull up to the house with a known Serpent. 

“No,” she stuttered out, her lungs struggling to suck in enough oxygen to support the words. “I can take the bus.” 

The blatant objection on his face would have been enough to make her burst out laughing if it were any other scenario. As it was, she recoiled, preparing for him to rebuff her. 

“Absolutely not,” he said firmly, shaking his head, “It’s late, it’s dark, and despite what you may think, putting your keys between your knuckles won’t deter some lowlife from trying to attack you.”

Betty’s face fell slack at the realization that he had noticed her defensive position when she had walked into the alley earlier that evening. She hadn’t thought he had seen that. How did  _ nothing _ escape his notice? She shook her head lightly, drawing herself to stand up straight, hoping that it would help her look more intimidating. She scoffed internally, she still didn’t even come up to his chin. Betty’s brows furrowed, trying to channel all her strength into resolve. 

“I must be the first and only girl to ever say no to you,” she stated simply, feeling a small wave of satisfaction at the confused look that crossed his face. 

“What makes you think that?” he asked, pushing his chair back under the table. 

“Because you have yet to take no for an answer,” she snarked, then looked down at the floor, her voice softening, “I’m capable of making my own decisions, you know?” 

There was a heavy silence between them, and Betty chanced a look up through her lashes. He was smiling at her, but it seemed sad, so unlike the smile that had been present as they had argued emphatically about books. 

“I know you are,” he said quietly, startling her with the softness of his voice, “I’m quite aware of how strong you are, Betty Cooper.”

She sucked in a breath and took a half step back. Dangerous. That softness in his eyes was dangerous. She clenched her hands into fists, valiantly trying to remind herself that she didn’t need a ride from him. 

“Okay, then. I’m taking the bus,” she breathed out, hating how breathless she sounded. 

_ Liar,  _ her traitorous mind whispered. She knew she wasn’t taking the bus. She didn’t even want to anymore at that point. She wanted to sit with him in the small cab of his truck, drinking in the smell of old cigarettes and rain. 

“How about…” he started, moving to join her on her side of the table, “I give you a ride, but let you out one street down from Elm? That way no one will see you.” He lifted a hand towards her, to do what, she had no clue, because before his fingers could touch her, he seemed to realize what he was doing and dropped his hand back to his side. 

She inhaled the cigarette smoke that clung to his jacket, the scent filling her in a way that she had thought she would hate. She had always given the Bulldogs shit for smoking around her, telling them to take the filth habit elsewhere. But somehow, the leftover smell that surrounded her wasn’t offensive. On him it felt….right. “You are infuriating,” she ground out. 

“And you are stubborn,” he snapped back, his words lacking venom. “It’s called a compromise, Betty. Neither of us gets what we want, and we both walk away unhappy.”

She tilted her head, quirking an eyebrow, “And what kind of outcome would make you happy?” she asked, the words slipping out before she could stop them. 

He paused, contemplation flashing in his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it and shook his head slightly, seeming to reconsider. “Doesn’t matter.” 

She wondered what he had been about to say. What  _ would  _ make Jughead Jones happy? A small voice inside her whispered that she wanted to find out, wanted to know everything about the man that stood before her. He reached past her and pushed in her chair for her, gesturing to the door. “Ready to go?”

She scowled at him and crossed her arms over her chest. “I didn’t agree, Jones.” 

He had the audacity to  _ roll his eyes at her _ , as if he knew that she would eventually cave. She contemplated taking the bus just to spite him, then sighed. He was looking at her expectantly, an amused smile pulling at his mouth. 

She clenched her jaw, remembering the last time she had ridden the bus at night by herself. 

The raging feminist inside her was beating against her ribs like an animal, trying to get out to tell Jughead Jones exactly what he could do with his offer, but the practical side of her won out. She was safer in Jughead’s truck that she was attempting to brave the Southside after dark on her own. And if she got to spend another ten minutes with him… well, she wouldn’t complain. 

“Fine,” she conceded, crossing her arms over her chest. “You may take me home, but you have to drop me off around the corner.” The last thing she needed was her mother questioning her about the boy dropping her off outside their door. Jughead rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. They began walking towards the door, with Jughead falling into step right behind her. 

“Oh, well thank you for the honor,” he simpered, reaching past Betty to open the door for her. She felt a blush start to creep up her neck. She wished that he didn’t have that effect on her, like every word he uttered held the potential to cause her to burst into flames. She flung her ponytail over her shoulder, feigning indifference. The least she could do was fake that she was calm and level-headed around him. 

“You’re welcome,” she simpered back, letting her voice become coated in false grandeur, “I’m happy to hear that you understand how  _ lucky _ you are to have me grace your presence.” She had meant it as a joke, a play on the Northside Princess jokes that she was sure he was constantly thinking of. But when she looked back, the smirk that she had been anticipating wasn’t there. 

Instead, Jughead’s face was pulled into a soft frown, like he was thinking hard about something. Maybe he really did think she was a Northside Princess. She paused at the front of the truck, peering up at him. “Jug?” she asked, worried that she had ruined everything with one ill-timed joke. 

Jughead shook his head and looked down at her, his smile back now. “Sorry,” he murmured, “it’s nothing. Let’s get you home.” 

Betty nodded and headed to the passenger door, climbing into the too-tall truck. She faced forward and clipped her seatbelt snugly over her lap, feeling like the silence in the cab was going to swallow her whole. 

Jughead backed out of his parking space and began pulling out of the parking lot. Betty looked out the window, the now-stopped rain still clinging to the window. She was trying to think of something to say to break the thick blanket of quiet that was suffocating them, when her eyes fell on a black car parked across the street from the restaurant. There was no business there, just an empty lot. Betty looked up and down the street and saw no houses near them either. In fact, there was nothing but run down, uninhabited buildings littering that side of the street. 

Something tugged at the back of her mind, but it was pushed aside when Jughead’s voice rang out in the cab. 

“Have you really never had Vietnamese before?” his voice laced with incredulity. Betty turned her gaze back to him, forgetting the car and the odd placement of it in favor of talking to the man sitting beside her. 

“Never,” she answered, feeling like a sheltered child. “But it was absolutely delicious,” she exclaimed, her eyes widening in surprise. In all honesty, she had taken one look at the menu and hadn’t been sure if she would enjoy the food, but she had thoroughly been proven wrong. 

Jughead chuckled beside her, his fingers tapping out an unknown rhythm against the steering wheel, “I’ll have to take you back someday,” he declared, “Ally makes the best pho you'll ever eat.” 

Betty blushed at the mention of spending more time with him. Jughead wanted to take her out to dinner again, and that thought alone made her stomach flip and flop with nervous excitement. 

“That sounds nice,” she murmured, liking the way his excitement about food morphed into a docile smile. She shivered at the look on his face, then blushed when Jughead leaned forward to turn up the heat. Betty bit her lip to keep any words from falling out, sure that anything that she said at this point would be utterly embarrassing. 

She thought back to her conversation with Kevin and sighed with resignation. She had taken Jughead up on his offer only to determine if Kevin was right about Jughead liking her, and instead all she had discovered was that it was becoming increasingly hard for her to keep slinging disinterest and mild hatred his way. How had everything gotten so turned around? 

She looked out her window, resting a hand against her warm cheek as she watched the side streets pass by. She liked Jughead Jones. The same Jughead Jones who ran the Southside Serpents, who struck fear into the hearts of Northsiders. She took a deep breath, blowing it out against the glass, fogging it up. 

She liked Jughead Jones, and she wished that she could just tell him, but nothing in her life was ever that simple, was it?

~*~

“You’re wrong,” Betty stated again, feeling a giggle bubble in her chest, “Shakespearean plays are a time-honored classic, and are absolutely necessary in the high school curriculum.” He had been trying to convince her for the better part of five minutes that all high schools should toss out the Bard and all his works, claiming that they were elitist and inaccessible to students with reading disabilities. Betty had almost told him to stop the truck and let her walk. 

She hadn’t, and now, here she was, still debating with him as they sat parked against the curb, a block down from her house. 

“Yeah, okay Pride and Prejudice,” he laughed, rolling his eyes at her as he leaned against the steering wheel, his body twisted to face her fully. 

“The fact that you  _ don’t  _ like Austen says more about you than me,” she fired back at him, “And don’t even get me started on  _ your  _ top five list! Your third pick was A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man... I mean,  _ really _ ?”

Jughead’s jaw dropped at her insult and she almost had to bring a hand up to her mouth to hold back the laughter that was threatening to burst forth from her chest. She loved the look on his face, it was the same one that he had sported at Ally’s as she had critiqued his favorite books. 

“Are you insulting Joyce, Elizabeth? My God, I have more to teach you about literature than I thought,” he shook his head in mock disappointment, blowing a strand of hair out of his eyes. Betty watched as the tuft rose and fell back right where it had been. His hair was utterly unruly. 

She smirked at him, moving to grab her backpack from under her feet. “There is nothing that you can teach me about literature that I don’t already know,” she scoffed, shaking her head at him. She might be younger than him, but she knew her knowledge on the subject was deep and wide. She could keep up with the best of them when it came to books. 

“Then what about other things?” his voice was low, and something about it made Betty’s stomach clench. She leaned back against her door and did her best not to stare like a deer caught in headlights, but her brain was short-circuiting. She wondered, briefly, what it would be like to have him pressed against her, his voice low and growling in her ear.

“Betty?” he spoke again, his voice back to normal now. She tried to keep the blush off her face, hoping that her thoughts weren’t being displayed plainly there. 

“I have to go,” she whispered, gathering up her bags quickly. Was it just her or had it gotten hotter in the truck? She felt like she was burning alive. Betty twisted and grabbed the handle, opening the door to let in the cool night air. She tried to move to the edge of the seat, but found that her ankle had gotten caught in the strap of her backpack. She pulled with her leg but the offending limb didn’t budge. 

“Here,” Jughead offered, moving to grab his own door handle. 

Betty heard Jughead’s door open then shut and she tried to untangle her ankle, cursing internally at her bad luck. Why was it so hard for her to make a quick getaway?

“It’s okay,” she said frantically, “I’ve got it.” Betty pulled on her ankle again, this time releasing it from the backpack strap, but she had pulled too hard, knocking her whole body off balance. 

It was like she was falling in slow motion, everything around her slowing down but not enough for her to do anything. She was falling out of the truck backward, her feet still on the floor of the cab. She tensed her upper body, waiting to make contact with the grassy boulevard beneath her.

The impact never came. 

Instead, when she opened her eyes, she was looking up into Jughead’s face, whose mouth was twisted into a wide smile, her back pressed to his chest, his arms wrapped around her. Her mind blanked, focusing only on the lock of black hair that was inches away from her face now. At some point, Jughead shifted her so that she was mostly standing, allowing her to get her feet underneath her. She took a step back from him, taking her backpack when he handed it to her. 

God, what a nightmare. She put her backpack on, liking the reassuring weight on her shoulders. Was there no reality where she could be around Jughead without embarrassing herself? Apparently not. 

“Thanks,” she murmured, trying to alleviate some of the tension between them, “for dinner, I mean. And for catching me. I, um, had a really nice time.”

Jughead just smiled at her, closing the truck door behind him. “Anytime,” he breathed, his voice soft in the evening air. 

Betty clutched the strap of her backpack tightly, needing to give her hands something to do so they wouldn’t reach out to see if his hair was as soft as it looked. What was wrong with her? She had better restraint than this, didn’t she?

Betty nodded, not knowing what else to say, and turned briskly, walking down the sidewalk to turn onto Elm Street. 

His voice rang out clearly in the night, “See you later.” She didn’t look back, she couldn’t risk it. If she looked back and he was staring after her, there was no telling what she would have done. Instead, she raised a single hand above her shoulder, waving to him without turning around. She was certain she could hear a bark of laughter ring out in the quiet air. 

She heard the truck fire up just as she was turning down her street, and only then did she chance a glance back. Jughead was rolling away from the curb, then he was gone, turning down another street. 

Betty heaved out a sigh, feeling herself truly relax for the first time since she had gotten off the bus on the Southside earlier that evening. She tried to get her breathing back under control, the blush to disappear, but then she would remember what his arms had felt like around her and she would be back to the beginning. 

What she didn’t understand was why she felt like this so suddenly. She remembered vividly feeling annoyed and even exasperated by Jughead just last week. So what had changed? 

Maybe it was because he seemed like he was actually listening when they talked. Like he cared about what she had to say. Or maybe it was the fact that he could talk about books with her for hours. Maybe it was because he had stood up to Archie. 

Maybe it was because he simply wanted to make sure she was  _ okay.  _

Again and again, he had just wanted to ensure that she was safe. That she was alright. 

Betty thought back to the anger on his face when he had met her in the alley that night. He had looked upset, definitely, but there had also been an undercurrent of concern, she now realized. 

The bottle of pills rattled in her backpack, and with each step she felt heavier and heavier. She was being reckless. She knew that. In every facet of her life, she was taking chances that didn’t need to be taken. With Jughead, with the pills, with school. It was dangerous and unwise. If she wasn’t careful, everything could come falling down on top of her, threatening to crush her under all its weight. 

She knew all this. 

But then why did it feel so good?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, friends! What did you think? Slam that kudos button, leave me a comment, come talk to me on Tumblr! I love hearing from you guys!

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! You made it to the end! I hope you liked this and if you did please, please, please slam that kudos button or leave a comment. I love hearing from you guys! Also, I have a Tumblr (same username) and there is always some cool stuff over there!


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